The Heart Made of Clay
by Zgamer
Summary: Clay Turner seemed to have a normal, if peculiar, mundy life working at a pizzeria with his best friends. Then one day, fate brought a beautiful woman named Nerissa into his life. Little would he know that this encounter would change everything he knew about himself forever. OC/Nerissa, but not the central focus of the story. 9/3/14 - CH. 4 IS NOW UP!
1. It Has to Begin Somewhere

**Note: Fixed for formatting now.**

**Welcome to my third fanfiction story. It's been a while since I published something, especially with delays and writer's block hindering my other stories. To help the creative process along though, I wrote up this intro to what I hope will be another fun adventure.**

**Just to note. This takes place after the events of The Wolf Among Us Season 1 and while there's a certain cliffhanger that needs to be addressed, I nixed for the sake of the story. Why? Because fanfiction, that's why.  
**

**Also, there will be a romantic element between my OC and Nerissa, but it is not just a romance story. The main focus is the plot that will manifest itself along the way. Just trust me on this. There are some fun things in store here!  
**

**With that said, thanks for checking this out and I hope you enjoy following Clay Turner through what will certainly be a strange journey for him. And now I present to you...The Heart Made of Clay.  
**

_ Once upon a time, in the fictional land of New York City…._

Soft, white snow crunched under Clay Turner's shoes as he ran through the streets. Winter had come in full strength to New York and it wasn't letting up soon. White clumps pelted his face, dripping water down his cheeks. His beanie was completely soaked and his neck was freezing. That wouldn't stop him from keeping a promise though, even if he was already fifteen minutes late.

He rounded the corner of 5th Avenue and stopped just in time to not be hit by a cab. At least that proved he wasn't as clumsy as people assumed, especially since that cab driver wouldn't have stopped.

With one last sprint down the sidewalk, he arrived at his destination: St. Patrick's Cathedral. It had been while since he went to a church, but it was a pretty one. The rough, stony exterior complemented the ornate glass windows and decorations that made it unmistakably a Catholic Church. It was like a chunk of history crammed into the middle of an increasingly industrial city. Thank God he made it here too, because he almost went to the St. Paul Church by mistake.

He walked up the steps slowly to catch his breath, only to notice that the doors were closed. Crap! He hoped he wasn't too late. He rested his hands on his knees and listened to the music being played while his heart stopped racing. He couldn't distinguish any one voice from the entire chorus, which meant there hadn't been a solo yet.

He looked over to see a big "A City Singing At Christmas" sign draped on one of the walls. It was a cute thing designed with a festive font and color scheme to emphasize everything that was Christmas...for a Catholic. It was going to be a long night, but he had promised to stay for the entire thing. Maybe the music would lull him to sleep if he really needed it.

With his heart rate returning to normal, he walked to the door and slowly entered. It made a light creak, but no one seemed to notice. At least that was better than the time he went with his friend Mike to a concert at a local bar. He nearly died of embarrassment after that squeaky door threw off the entire event. It was kind of funny in retrospect though.

He shielded his eyes to adjust to the influx of light that colored everything inside with a bright golden yellow. It was more full than he expected. Mostly families and assorted older people, but at least it wasn't an unfriendly looking crowd. He walked down the aisle to see if there was an open seat in the pews.

As he did so, he scanned the chorus in the front area. He knew it would be hard to pinpoint one person amidst a sea of identically colored robes, but he had to make sure she was there. After a few seconds, he spotted her curly golden locks in the middle of the crowd. The way the light shone on her hair, combined with her beaming smile and blue eyes, really made her look pretty. She also wore those earrings he always thought complemented her eyes. Her booming, melodic voice blended nicely with the chorus as they sang, 'O Come O Come Emmanuel.' It made him hope he hadn't missed her solo.

At that moment, she spotted him and snuck a quick wave before looking back at the conductor. He was too slow to wave back at her, so he figured he should sit down and not bother her.

His eyes then fell upon an open aisle seat to his right. The only person next to it was a woman with a strange flower pinned in her hair. It was the most convenient spot he could find, so he hoped she didn't mind.

"Pst," he whispered to the woman. She turned to him surprised, which made him feel guilty for distracting her. "Sorry, uh, are you saving this for anyone?"

She shook her head and motioned for him to sit.

"Thank you," he whispered again as he took off his coat and beanie before sitting. He sighed and closed his eyes as the warmth of the cathedral and the sounds of music embraced him. He had to get used to it, since he had another hour or two to go. Not like he had anything better to do tonight.

He opened his eyes and noticed the woman with the flower looking at him, amused by his relaxation.

"Sorry," he whispered with a chuckle sitting upright. "I ran a long way to get here."

"You could have taken a cab," she replied.

"Eh. Running saves money and keeps the cardio up. Probably would have been late either way.

"Guess so," she said before looking back to the choir.

Clay stole an extra glance to admire how beautiful this woman was. Her nicely combed red hair, thin dark eyebrows, full lips and rounded cheeks gave off a cute but natural vibe. She also wore a white low cut outfit that was appealing but not gross. And those eyes…he could lose himself staring at those pools of brown.

He nervously looked back to the choir before she could spot him. He wasn't here to meet people, but he felt like he should talk to her. He didn't know how willing she would be to talk after the concert though. Most likely, they'd awkwardly say hi and she would go home. Just his luck.

"It's really nice, isn't it," the woman then unexpectedly whispered to him.

"Hm?" He said a little too loud before quieting himself.

"The music. It's really sweet. Do you know the song?"

He listened carefully to check. The echo in the cathedral made the words hard to point out, but he recognized the tune.

"I think they're on the, um, 'The Huron Carol," he whispered. He was impressed he remembered that title. Then he remembered that it was because his friend had only sung it fifty billion times back at their apartment.

"What's a Huron?" The woman asked.

"Beats me. Must be some kind of carol."

The woman chuckled. "Very deductive," she teased looking back to the choir. "I don't listen to a lot of Christmas music, so it's all new to me."

"Did your family not celebrate the holidays?"

"No. We just had…different traditions."

"Cool," he whispered back. He was still nervous, but he kept a level head. "So…what brought you here?"

"The church," she whispered back.

"Yeah. What brought you to the church?"

"The church did," she clarified. "I didn't know there was a concert happening. I just…felt like going to a church tonight."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not very religious, but I had a rough day and I needed to clear my head. So I took a stroll for a couple of hours and…well, I ended up here. I figured, 'What the hell?' You know?"

"Oh…Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's ok," she reassured him. "What brought you here?"

"Her," he said pointing to his friend in the choir.

As if on cue, his friend began singing her solo. He always knew her voice was nice, but this time it was just angelic. The words to 'O Holy Night' carried across the room, filling the audience with cheer and reverence.

"Wow," the woman next to him said. "She's really good."

"Yeah," he said equally surprised.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Cheryl? Oh, no, no, no, no. She's dating my friend Taylor."

"Oh. Where's he?"

"He, uh, he had to work tonight," he quickly thought to say. "Graveyard shift and all. He asked me to 'fill his spot' so somebody would come."

"Couldn't he have asked for time off?"

"…yeah. He probably could have."

She scoffed at that. "Some boyfriend he is."

Clay kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to speak out on something personal that he wasn't a part of.

"Hope he didn't ruin any plans you had," she whispered as the choir joined Cheryl in the song.

"Not really."

"Well, then you're a better man than he is."

The two of them sat in silence for another minute as the song finished and the conductor turned his hymnbook to the next page.

"I'm Nerissa, by the way," the woman whispered to Clay.

"Hm?"

"Nerissa. I never introduced myself."

"Oh, uh, hi. I'm Clay."

"Nice to meet you, Clay."

He smiled hearing that. It suddenly felt a lot warmer and not from any of the candles. If he had to be grateful for anything tonight, he at least had some nice company for the next hour…

* * *

"So, how'd it go?"

Clay snapped out of his daydream to see Mike walking on his left side. He had been thinking about her again. The vision of that red hair wrapped around that flower burned in the back of his skull like a heavenly dream. It was almost like she walking beside him on the snowy sidewalk to go for a lunch break with his friends. She wasn't though, otherwise she'd see him dressed in his silly uniform from The Cutting Room pizzeria.

"Huh?" Clay replied to Mike.

"The concert. Was Cheryl 'a stupendous sensation' like she claims?"

"Oh, yeah, she was great."

"Damn right she was," his friend Taylor then chimed in from his right side. "She's only been practicing for…what? Five months. A few more and she'll get a record deal."

"Right," Mike joked. "And you'll be her money grubbing, under the table dealing husband slash manager, of course."

They all chuckled as they continued walking. These were the moments Clay treasured in life. Mike Walsh and Taylor Granger had been his best friends for as long as he could remember. It all started when he was hired at the pizzeria. He didn't remember a lot before then, which was something he never figured out. He did, however, remember talking with Mike and Taylor when they were assigned to be his mentors. One thing led to another, they became friends, they found out he had nowhere to live and now they had been roommates for the last seven years. The fact they were still working at the pizzeria didn't speak much for their prospects in life, but at least they had each other.

"So a lot of people heard her then?" Taylor asked.

"Hell yeah," Clay reassured. "I mean, it was mostly old people, but they all thought she was great."

"You saying old people can't appreciate good music?"

"You should know," Mike teased. "How much older than us are you?"

"Two years," Taylor answered. "But that just means I'm not a young idiot anymore."

"Whatever you say, grandpa," Clay joked, prompting laughs from Mike. Taylor hid a mock scowl as they continued walking.

The group rounded a corner and Mike decided to put on the showmanship.

"And now," he said to the other two with his 'theatrical British' voice. "The finest dining this side of New York outside of our restaurant. The master vendor of all things wieners: Marcos Dias's Hot Dogs!"

Clay and Taylor rolled their eyes as they walked past him.

"What?" Mike jokingly scoffed. "Just trying to make lunch fun for once."

Mike pushed past the two of them to speak with Marcos behind the vendor's counter. They had been coming for lunch here for the last two years when they weren't in the mood to cook or treat themselves to the pizzeria's wares. They all hit their pizza quota when they started working though, so that wasn't saying much.

"Marcos, como estas?" Mike said to Marcos.

"Senor Miguel, mi amigo," Marcos replied as he finished helping the customer in front of them. "Busy day at the work?"

"It's murder. What is it about the holidays that makes people want pizza so badly?"

"No mi digas, senor Mike. No one buy hot dogs no more because of you."

"My bad, Marcos. Maybe we should combine forces and make a…uh, 'pizza dog.' We'll make millions together."

"Ha! You funny, senor Miguel. You want usual?"

"Extra bacon this time," Mike said as he looked to Taylor. "And what does the wiener want on his wiener?"

"Hardy har har," Taylor mocked. "Polish dog, extra mustard please."

As Marcos got their orders ready, Taylor walked Clay a few steps away from the vendor for a chat.

"Hey," Taylor whispered. "You know I meant it when I said thanks, right?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," Clay replied.

"I mean it," Taylor said with a sigh. "I'm not proud of skipping. I tried calling it off with Alice last night, but…"

Clay crossed his arms hearing Alice's name. "You really need to tell Cheryl."

"I know, I know. I just need the right time."

"You've been saying that for the last two months."

"It's not that easy. Not like you've ever had an actual girlfriend before."

Clay looked down to the ground angrily. Sure, he hadn't been on a date for a while…well, before last night at least. He still knew better than to juggle two women at once.

"I'm sorry," Taylor apologized. "That wasn't nice. I didn't mean it."

"I know," Clay said looking back up. "You still need to tell Cheryl."

"Alright. Just after Christmas, ok?"

"After?"

"I don't want to drop a bomb like that during the holidays. I just want to forget about it for a while, then I'll tell her everything."

Clay knew this wasn't a good idea, but it was Taylor's relationship so he could do what he wished with it.

"Cheryl was really happy you came," Taylor said.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he said and chuckled. "I swear she has a crush on you though."

"Huh?"

"The way she gossiped about that woman you talked to all night."

"Who now?" Mike said joining in on the conversation and handing Taylor his order.

"Didn't you hear?" Taylor teased putting a hand on Clay's shoulder. "Clay sweet talked a lovely red head at the concert."

"Oh ho? Tell me more."

"Food first," Clay said walking past them to Marcos. It's not that he 'didn't' want to talk about it, but he'd prefer talking on a full stomach.

"Senor Clay," Marcos said cheerfully. "How many dogs today?"

"I dunno, five…no, seven," Clay said feeling his stomach.

Mike whistled with amusement behind him. "Hopefully your mystery woman knows what a glutton you are."

Clay couldn't argue with that. Ever since he could remember, he had an appetite to rival all appetites. It's partly how he won Mike and Taylor's friendship early on, when he devoured a whole pizza in under a minute. He never gained weight though. Maybe it was just a healthy metabolism, but at most he had a little fat around his stomach. Hell, he usually felt a lot healthier after a good meal. At least he learned to keep his eating under control when in public.

"So give us the details," Taylor said. "How'd you meet? What'd she say? What'd you do?"

"Geez, when did you guys become a bunch of chicks?" Clay joked.

"You don't have to be a chick to want to know that stuff," Mike joked. "And it isn't everyday our little Clay spreads his wings and does his mating call."

"Oh geez," Clay muttered to himself embarrassed.

"Well, what's the story?"

Clay sighed as he recalled last night. "I got there late and found the first open seat I could. Turns out it was next to her. She asked me about a song that was playing and we just kept talking from there."

"What's her name?" Taylor asked in mid bite.

"Nerissa."

"Nerissa?" Mike said concerned. "Is she foreign?"

"Nope. She as local as you and me," Clay said before paying for the hot dogs Marcos laid out. "Thanks Marcos. You're still the best."

"Si, amigo," Marcos said happily. "See you tomorrow."

The three of them walked and ate as Taylor continued. "So you just talked to her for two hours?"

"No," Clay said, "I mean, yeah we did talk the whole concert, but we didn't JUST do that. We went out for coffee after."

"Where did all this courage come from?" Mike said between chewing. "Isn't this the same guy who'd rather stay at home on a Friday night?"

"It felt right," Clay said powering down a hot dog. "We enjoyed all the talking and wanted to keep it going, so we did."

"How far did you get?"

"Well…" Clay said pulling out a napkin with numbers from his pocket. "She gave me her number."

"Oh, did she?" Mike said snatching the napkin out of his hand.

"Hey!"

"Easy, easy! I won't tear it," Mike said reading it. "Hm…I don't recognize the area code. Seen this before?" He handed it to Taylor, who gave a quick glance over.

"Nope," Taylor said.

"Think it's a fake?"

"Why would it be fake?" Clay asked.

"I've been given fakes before," Taylor replied giving back the napkin. "Did she specifically say 'call me' when she gave it?"

"Yeah."

"How so? " Mike asked. "Because there's a difference between 'call me' like you mean it and 'call me' like you really hope they don't call."

"I believe her words were 'call me tomorrow' when she gave it."

"Ok, that's a good sign," Taylor said impressed as he walked ahead of them. "So are you going to?"

"I already did," Clay said moving onto another hot dog.

"Say what? When?"

"While you guys were busing the tables. We're doing dinner and a Central Park walk on Tuesday."

Mike whistled amused. "I guess if you keep your eyes open, you'll find something good."

"Yeah, like this," Taylor said.

Two snowballs pelted Clay and Mike in the face with a powdery explosion. They looked up to see Taylor grinning goofily making more.

"Oh you're dead now," Mike said as he went to make his own snowball to retaliate.

Clay still had another two dogs to finish, but he figured it was ok to sit this one out. It wasn't often he got lunch and a show before going back to work…

* * *

"Give me a rain storm any day," Nerissa said with a shiver as she and Clay exited the movie theater. They had gone on this date because they thought the weather would lighten up. And it had…but it was still windier and colder than what they were dressed for.

"Here," Clay said taking off his coat and draping it over hers.

"Oh, you don't have to.

"I insist. Maybe you didn't know this, but my superpower is being impervious to cold."

"My hero," she chuckled as she walked beside him and held his hand. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," he replied with a big smile. This was their fourth date together and things were going well. It turns out that datingwas easier than he expected. As long as he was nice, listened to what she said and respected her boundaries, he was in the clear. He wasn't in a hurry to pressure her into anything, as much as Mike suggested otherwise.

"So, how did you like the movie?" Nerissa asked.

"It was good," he replied. "Not the best Christmas movie ever, It had some good parts."

"Yeah. I liked the way it ended. It was cheesy, but at least they got to spend Christmas together."

An awkward pause followed as Clay read into what she meant. Nerissa always seemed to have something on her mind with that face saddled somewhere between sad and cute. They hadn't talked much about family yet, so maybe he should just test to see what she felt.

"You get to see your family much?" He asked.

"Not anymore," she replied.

"Anymore?"

"They...live too far to visit," she said. "And I don't have the money to travel whenever I want."

"Do you call them?"

"They didn't leave a number for their new home…so no."

"I'm sorry," he said looking down.

"It's ok. It's been a while since that happened. What about your family?"

"Um…" he stammered trying to think of a good way to phrase his point. "Would you believe me if I said I don't know if I have one?"

She looked to him curiously. "How so?"

"I just…don't remember having one. I was on my own for a long time when I was younger. It wasn't until I met Mike and Taylor that I had anything close to a family."

"Did you ever try looking for them?"

"I looked for Turner in the local hospitals, but there's a hundred different Turners just in this area alone and at least five Clay Turners who were born probably around my same time. I checked them all and none of them knew me."

The two of them were quiet for a moment as they took all of that in.

"So we're both a couple of lonely souls then?" She said somberly.

"I guess so…but at least we can be lonely together," he replied trying to cheer her up. That made her smile, so it worked. He thought it would sound stupid to say out loud.

As they continued walking through a silent, light snowfall, a group of twenty-somethings came their way on the sidewalk. Their speech was loud and slurred, which meant they should stay out of each other's way. The two of them moved to the side to let them pass.

"I don't think I've ever walked you home before," Clay said to change the subject.

"It's not too far, if that's what you're asking," Nerissa joked.

"Oh, please. I can handle any—"

"Hey hey!" The two of them turned to see one of the guys from the drunken group pointing at Nerissa. "Lookie who it is."

The group whistled, whooped, and catcalled to her, which made the two of them uncomfortable.

"Isn't that one of Georgie's girls?"

"Hell yeah, that is," one of the other guys said. "I never seen you with this many clothes, bitch."

"You going to show him your private moves, sugar tits?" Another guy said.

Clay had heard enough. He wrapped an arm around Nerissa and continued walking away from the group. Unfortunately, they weren't finished harassing them.

"Hey where you going, boy?" One of the guys said. "We're just checking your merchandise before you drill her brains out."

"Yeah man," another guy said. "The jewel of the Puddin' and Pie herself."

"Don't soil Georgie's memory with that delicate piece of ass."

"Yeah. She's a prized whore!"

Clay moved Nerissa away from the group's direction as he turned around and got into one of the guys faces.

"Get the hell away from us!" Clay shouted.

"Hey hey!" One of the guys slurred. "We're just a bunch of happy admirers. You go and have her ride your pole. We won't keep ya."

"Yeah. Enjoy your Christmas present," another guy said as they stumbled away.

Clay fumed to himself and exhaled. He just needed to keep walking and chill out. He can't let some drunken dickheads ruin his night.

"God," he said turning to Nerissa. "Can you believe those ass—"

He then noticed Nerissa looking down to the ground guiltily for some reason. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, not looking Clay in the face.

"You ok?" He asked concerned.

After a short pause, Nerissa sighed. "Please don't hate me."

"Hate you?" He said confused. "Because of them? They probably harassed a whole bunch of people tonight."

That didn't lighten her mood at all. She looked away, rubbing her hands on her shoulders.

"…what's a Puddin' and Pie?" Clay decided to ask out of curiosity. "Some kind of bakery?"

"No," she sighed. "It's a strip club."

He probably should have figured that out from their comments, to be fair. It was still a shocking surprise.

"Well," he said trying to segue. "That doesn't mean that—"

"I used to work there," she confessed.

The two of them paused as he let that sink in. So they weren't just teasing? He let his hands hang at his sides before rubbing the back of his neck nervously trying to think of a reply.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have told you before. I just didn't know how to say it."

Clay tried to think of something good to say, but all he had was the stupid questions. "A…a strip club?"

"Yes."

"Like, you danced naked in front of-"

"Yeah."

This wasn't going well and he couldn't stop himself. "And you did…did it with-"

"Yeah."

"A lot?"

"...enough."

He put his hands back in his pockets. Great…now he made things super awkward. He tried to think of something to recover. "But you don't work there anymore, right?"

She shook her head. "I left before we met…a while before. It wasn't something I wanted to do, but I was in a lot of debt. I just didn't know they would ask that much from me. As soon as I found a way out though, I took it."

Clay listened intently as he thought this over. So she was a stripper and a hooker. He didn't think of her like that before he knew though and he never suspected as much. Did that really change who he was dealing with right now?

"Please Clay," she said looking back at him. "I never wanted to hurt or use you. You've been one of the few genuinely nice guys in my life and I really enjoy being with you. I'm not proud of what I did, but if you didn't want to talk to me again…"

After a few more seconds, Clay put his hand on her shoulder. She hesitated at first before calming down. He took a deep breath before saying what he was thinking.

"Nerissa," he said getting off to a clumsy start. "I…I really enjoy being with you too. All of…this is a lot to take in, but if you say you don't do that anymore…" He saw her look into his eyes curious to hear what he would say. "Then that's fine with me."

Nerissa didn't say a word as she wiped her eyes, her mascara rubbing on her fingers in the process.

"Maybe I'm just stupid," he continued. "But I never suspected that about you. You've always just been a really great person and…and, well, that hasn't changed."

Nerissa faintly smiled at him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said smiling back. All of this still shocked him, but he meant what he said.

She turned to fully face him and gave him the tightest hug he had ever been given.

"Thank you," she said resting her head at his chest. The way she said it was more than just a 'thank you,' but that's all she needed to say.

He returned the embrace with a snug hug around her. "My pleasure," he said softly. The snow didn't bother them at all at that moment, because they were plenty capable of keeping each other warm. He couldn't ask for more than that...

* * *

"So you didn't go all the way with her?" Mike asked from the living room as Clay entered their apartment.

It was late and the whole apartment was shrouded in shadow save for the lamp next to Mike and the couch. It made him look like a parent waiting for his kid to come home, especially with that book he was reading. Other than that, the apartment was very much a young man's place. It had a kitchen with scattered dirty dishes, two bedrooms with clothes draped on the beds, a living room with old VHS tapes stacked in a corner, an extra room full of...stuff and other odd things twenty-somethings kept. It was home sweet home.

"Say what?" Clay asked.

"You're home late, but not late enough to assume you stayed at her place. So either you went all the way and left like a jerk or, most likely, you didn't."

"Haven't you heard of not 'kissing and telling?'" Clay said as he went to the kitchen and pulled out a loaf of bread. He was hungry but not enough to make a huge meal. He figured a triple-decker peanut butter and jelly sandwich would do.

"That only furthers my assumptions," Mike said with a smirk.

"Geez, are you my mom now?" Clay said rolling his eyes. "And what's your excuse staying up so late? All the tv channels are off."

"I've found it hard to sleep in an empty apartment."

Clay sat down with his sandwich in the living room as he realized what Mike meant. "Whose house is he at tonight?" He asked.

"Hell if I know," Mike sighed as he lowered his book. "He left without saying a word. I just figured, 'Well, I don't have work tomorrow, so I might as well wait for one of my boys to get back.'"

"You really are my mom," Clay teased as he took a bite into his sandwich.

"Well, mother does know best. So seriously, how are you and Nerissa doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know. Are you guys all…" Mike then made air quotation marks. "Steady?"

"Define 'steady.'"

"You slept with her yet?"

"No."

"Have you been inside her house?"

"Nope."

"You kissed her yet?"

"Well…"

"Full on make-out?"

"No, but she pecked me on the cheek before she went to her apartment."

"Hm. That's ok for a fourth date…if you're a Mormon."

"Since when did you become the dating guru?"

"I'm just saying. You want something badly, you got to make a move."

"So why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Life's short, but not that short. I haven't found my princess yet. Being single for a little longer won't kill me."

"Profound words," Clay said finishing off his sandwich. "Ok love guru, how should I go about 'making my move'?"

"Here's a start," Mike said chucking a crumpled paper at Clay.

"Hey!"

"Read it, 'fraidy cat."

Clay picked up the paper and opened it up. "What's this?"

"Cheryl found that flier on the street and thought it could be a fun group date. It's some social event with dancing, food, Christmas cheer, yada yada yada."

Clay noticed the address on the bottom of the flier. "Hm…this isn't too far from Nerissa's place."

"There you go. You bring your girl, I find a delicate flower to tag along, Cheryl drags Taylor off his ass, we go, we dance, we party, you guys kiss, you go back to her place and have a Merry Christmas. Happily ever after…achieved!"

"You're really obsessed with this fairy tale stuff."

"A little fantasy makes for a fuller life."

"You should write children's books."

"It's classic date movie material. Plus, you can 'bring her home to the family' this way. If this girl is truly as great as you say, Taylor and I need to approve."

"Thanks again, mom," Clay mocked.

"You'll thank me later. So what do you say? You up for it?"

* * *

"Where's the party at?" Nerissa asked Clay.

Dusk fell upon the city as they sat at Iron John's coffee shop. Clay had hoped the caffeine would lessen his anxiety to ask her to the dance, but it only made things worse. It's not like they were kids going to prom. He just didn't know how 'meeting the family' would turn out for them.

"Some place called 'The Ant and Grasshopper. You heard about it?"

"I've been there a few times. How did Cheryl hear about it?"

"She found a flier. Why? Is it not a good club?"

"No, but I'm just surprised. It's not very well known outside our community."

"Guess they decided to expand. So you want to go?"

Nerissa sipped her coffee as he saw her mull it over. "I don't know. What if the other people there don't like you?"

"Well, they're not going on a date with me," he said feeling grateful that he wasn't the only one concerned. "And I'm just as worried what Mike and Taylor will think of you."

"I promised I wouldn't call him out on his shit."

"Yeah, about that. He's really not as bad a guy as I'm making him sound. He's just…confused."

"Confused people don't juggle girlfriends for this long. How many times has he had you stand in for him?"

"Twice...I don't know, three times?" Clay sighed. "Look, he's my friend. And I don't have a lot of them."

"I don't either," Nerissa said. "I just don't want him to take advantage of you."

"Yeah…" Clay said as his eyes wandered. He had been to some shady looking coffee shops before, but never in a place like this. It was a poorer area of the city and everyone around them reflected it. If it wasn't the way they were dressed, it was the way they kept to themselves and, in some cases, obscured themselves to not be seen. How a beautiful, normal looking woman like Nerissa lived in a place like this was beyond him. Then again, he wasn't exactly a Prince Charming either.

One person in particular was bothering him the most. At a table nearby, somebody sat alone just looking at their direction. He wouldn't have thought it odd except that they were completely bundled up in a black trench coat, a red scarf, a large black fedora and a pair of red sunglasses. It wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Something was off about this lady or at least he felt some weird vibe coming off of her. It almost felt like a literal thing, but he knew that wasn't true. Before he could think more on it though, the person left in a hurry. The negative vibes seemed to leave with her too. Strange...

"Something wrong?" Nerissa asked noticing his wavering attention.

"Hm? No, I'm fine," Clay said turning back to her. "So…what do you say? Want to be the most adorable couple at the party?"

Before she could answer, someone tapped on her shoulder. They both looked up to see a tall, rugged looking guy standing beside her. He wore a ruffled white button up shirt held to his neck by a loosened skinny black tie, he had a bunch of healed over cuts across his face, he had a couple of bandages on his neck and he had a head of wild looking hair combed to the back. Whoever he was, he wasn't someone to mess with.

"Hey, Nerissa," the man spoke with a gravelly smoker voice. "You seen Wendy anywhere?"

"Nope," she replied. "John's inside if you want to ask him."

"Thanks," he said before looking to Clay. "Who's this?"

"This is Clay…my boyfriend."

Clay's heart skipped a beat hearing that. He had hoped for the party to be their defining moment, so her confirming it right now was exhilarating. He kept his excitement to himself, but he could feel his hand twitch a little.

"Hm," the man said sizing Clay up. "You from around here?"

"No," Clay replied. "I live about twenty minutes north of here."

The man gave a courtesy nod before reaching a hand toward Clay. "Fair enough. Name's Bigby Wolf, local sheriff."

Clay wasn't sure if this was a test or not, but he didn't want to be rude to Nerissa's friend. "Nice to meet you, sir," he replied shaking his hand.

"Glad you can respect the law," Bigby said as he released the shake and looked to Nerissa. "Let me know if Wendy shows up, ok?"

"Sure thing, sheriff," she replied.

"Thanks," he said before looking back to Clay. "Stay out of trouble." Bigby then left the table to talk to that John guy behind the counter.

"I didn't know this district had a local sheriff," Clay said to Nerissa.

"Yes, by the way," Nerissa said unrelated to his comment.

"Hm?"

"I'll go to the party with you," she clarified.

"Really?" He said beaming.

"If Bigby's ok with you, I'm sure everyone else will be too."

He wasn't sure why Bigby's approval was needed, but he was happy to have it. "Wow, f…sweet! When should I pick you up?

* * *

"You seriously met her at a cathedral?" Taylor said hushed to Clay as they fell a few paces behind their group

Their group had left the Ant and Grasshopper fifteen minutes ago and were walking down the street admiring this part of town. None of them except for Nerissa had been here before, so Mike proposed they do a little sight seeing before getting some food and calling it a night. So here the four of them were with Cheryl and Mike's date Sally in tow. The recent snowfall had made the walk chilly, but at least it wasn't stuffy like that dance club.

"Um, yeah," Clay whispered back.

"She's awesome!"

"Really?"

"Hell yeah! Pretty, smart, funny. How do you find a girl like that at a cathedral?"

"I must have been extra good this year," Clay joked. He was happy everyone seemed to like Nerissa. He had been worrying all night even when he saw them seemingly getting along.

"Well stake your claim soon. Someone like me might swoop down and snatch her from you."

"For your sake, please don't," Clay said as they rejoined the main group.

"What were you ladies gossiping about?" Cheryl teased. "You know it's rude to keep secrets."

"I know, I know," Taylor said to her. "I asked Clay if he knew any good places to eat here."

"You could have asked the local resident in our group."

"I wanted an outsider's opinion. Her tastes may be too foreign for us."

Clay rolled his eyes as he walked next to Nerissa. "How are you holding up?" He whispered to her.

"I'm alright," she whispered back. She seemed in more pain than usual, but it was hard to tell when she always wore that same worried look. "Cheryl and Sally have been really nice."

"They better," he said.

"I still don't know why Taylor…" she started to say before stopping herself.

"I don't know either," Clay admitted as he looked forward to Mike and Sally. "Hey! You know where we're going?"

"Not really," Mike said cheerfully. "I've passed by here a couple times, but I never checked out any place in particular. That's part of the fun though. We might stumble upon our new favorite places in the city purely by accident. That's always more rewarding."

"Unless we get mugged in some alleyway," Sally mentioned concerned.

"Psh!" Mike scoffed putting an arm around her. "Three guys like us can handle any punk ass muggers."

"Unless they have guns," Sally added.

"Is there a lot of gun violence here, Nerissa?" Mike asked.

"Not really," Nerissa answered. "But—"

"See!" He said cutting her off. "Don't worry. We'll stroll for a little longer, Clay can drop off his lovely lady at her place and we'll make our way to the nearest subway entrance." Mike covertly flashed a wink his direction, making it all too clear what was meant.

Clay sighed as he held Nerissa's hand. He hadn't made up his mind on how this night would end. It's not that he wouldn't want a 'happy ending.' He just…he had only just forgiven Nerissa of her seedy past. Trying to make her hop back in the sack so soon didn't seem very respectful. Hell, they had only been carrying the 'boyfriend and girlfriend' label for a few days now. He needed to see how Nerissa's mood went as they continued this little tour.

As he thought it over, his eyes wandered to his side. He inattentively admired the various buildings they walked past. After everything he thought back at that coffee shop a few days ago, he started to see more appeal in this humble part of the city. It had a very rustic feeling, almost like it was from another time. It was kind of comforting…

….until he spotted someone ducking out of view from under a street light. It scared him enough to make his hand shake in Nerissa's, but he just assumed it was nothing.

"Who does your nails?" He heard Sally say to Nerissa as he checked that side of the street again.

"I do," Nerissa replied. "I had a friend teach me this pattern though."

"You'll have to show me someday. That's just too cute."

Sally went back to chatting with Mike as Clay gave in to the urge to check back again. He didn't see anyone following them this time. It didn't calm him down completely, but at least that meant he should worry less. They just needed to-

"Did you see him too?" She whispered.

Now Clay was scared again. He turned to see her concerned expression. "What?"

"The guy across the street."

He looked back again out of anxiety. "How did you know about that?"

"He's been following us for a few blocks," she said.

A shiver went down his spine hearing that. "Why didn't you say something?"

"What and freak everyone out? It could be a mugger or it could be no one."

"What do we do?"

"That's what I've been thinking about the last few minutes." The two of them checked around the area until she pointed up ahead. "Up there. If he follows us, we'll find Bigby or a policeman to deal with him. If he doesn't, then we're good."

Clay was glad she kept a level head about this. He nodded to her before having them move closer to Mike and Sally. "Hey Mike," he said pointing to the alleyway. "Nerissa says there's something cool over there."

"You mean in the 'mugger alley'?" Mike said teasingly to Sally before turning to Nerissa. "What is it?"

"A really cool graffiti alley," she replied trying not to sound worried.

"Nice," Cheryl said as Taylor and her caught up. "The art of the people!"

"Ugh, graffiti's gross," Sally complained. "Why don't people just paint on a canvas instead of ruining a good wall?"

"So is the Sistine Chapel ceiling graffiti?"

"Well…"

"I win," he said triumphant. "Let's go."

The group quickly entered the alleyway as Clay and Nerissa watched their backs. They hadn't seen anyone yet, so maybe they were in the clear.

"Whoa," they heard Taylor say up ahead.

Clay looked forward to see what caught his attention. Nerissa wasn't kidding that this place was cool. Both walls were completely covered with elaborate and colorful murals of graffiti artwork. It was all fairytale themed, complete with a big bad wolf, little pigs, princes, princesses, castles and endless amounts of related content. It was like giant pages of a children's book expanded onto a building. Whoever the artist or artists were, they were professionals with spray cans. Hell, they even triple coated with meticulous artistic flourishes.

"Holy hell," Cheryl said amazed. "How many people worked on this?"

"Just one," Nerissa said as she continued looking back.

"One person did all of this?"

"They…have a lot of time on their hands."

"Admit it. You're impressed," Mike teased Sally as they continued admiring the scenery.

It was at that point that Clay and Nerissa turned and confirmed their suspicions. Back at the entrance of the alley, a shadowy person almost turned the corner only to stop and attempt to hide nonchalantly. Clay saw enough of to realize they were in trouble though. He made out the guy's spike Mohawk in the shadowed outline, along with a green jacket and….a knife!

"You saw him?" He asked Nerissa.

"Yeah."

"Shit!" He said too loud to not take back.

"What?" Taylor said turning back to the two of them.

"Keep walking," Nerissa said quietly pushing Taylor and Cheryl to move fast.

"Hey!" Cheryl complained pushing against them. "What's the big-"

"There's someone following us with a knife," Clay blurted out.

That got the whole group's attention!

"What?" Sally said.

"Sshh!" Nerissa said to not arouse the follower's attention.

"Did you see who it was?" Mike asked concerned.

"Who cares? Keep moving."

The art appreciation fell to the wayside as the group hurriedly rushed to the other side of the alley. Taylor kept looking back now too, keeping Cheryl close by just in case. They eventually reached the exit and kept close together walking down the sidewalk directly under streetlights.

"Can we take him?" Taylor asked Mike.

"Don't," Cheryl pleaded. "He might hurt you."

"She's right," Nerissa said. "We just need to find someone to help."

"Is there a subway tunnel nearby?" Sally asked holding back her panic.

Clay's curiosity got the better of him as he looked back again to see if the guy was following.

He was and now there was another person following too. This person, however, was more familiar to him. He had recognized the trench coat and red sunglasses from the café the other that person spying on them that whole time preparing for the mugging?

"Don't look at him," Nerissa said

"There's two of them now," he replied to Nerissa's increased worry.

"Two?" Taylor said hearing that.

"I'm scared," Cheryl squeaked.

"Why's everything closed this late?" Mike complained while trying to sound braver than he was.

"Come on," Nerissa said.

She led them across the street as Clay tried hard not to look back. So two people were chasing them for some unknown but surely malicious reason. He knew another person would show up if he looked back, so he tried keeping his eyes forward.

That didn't do much good though. Not too far away, a huge guy leaning against a wall with a humongous beard and spiked leather biker clothing stood up and fast walked towards them. He had to be at least seven feet tall!

Nerissa saw him too, as she now led them into a full sprint down another street nearby.

"Where are we going?" Mike shouted as everyone followed her and Clay's lead. She was too focused on running to answer though, which wasn't helping.

"Slow down!" Cheryl called out to them. "I can't run with these shoes."

"Leave them," Nerissa called back as she quickly slipped out of her heels in mid sprint. Clay would have been impressed had he not been terrified. Talking smack to a bunch of drunks like he did last week was one thing, but people with weapons were another!

The group kept running until they spotted a fourth person charging right towards them. It was another giant dude wearing a hideous gray vest over a black shirt, some torn up jeans and one of the weirdest bowl cuts Clay had ever seen.

"This way," Nerissa said quickly pulling Clay into an alley.

"Wait!" Taylor shouted from behind.

Clay and Nerissa ran down the alley, not daring to look back lest more people showed up. Clay couldn't hear his friends' footsteps anymore and now only heard screams and grunts fading behind the two of them. He wanted to turn around and help, but he was too scared to think straight. Nerissa wasn't stopping either, seemingly single minded on getting them out of dodge.

They exited the alley and quickly rounded a corner. He heard footsteps now, but they were definitely louder than Taylor, Mike or the girls'. The followers were still coming!

Nerissa then yanked him into a store that was still open. Well, not exactly a store. A split second glance revealed that they were in a butcher shop, complete with a barely stocked display of meat, a barely stocked fridge for drinks and a completely full ticket reel on the counter.

He then noticed the butcher of this shop standing behind the counter attempting to close up. He was a middle-aged balding man with big bushy gray eyebrows and a strong, sturdy face. The man clearly wasn't expecting visitors, as their sudden entrance caused him to drop a lump of veal onto the floor.

"What the what?" The man said flustered. "What the blazes are you-?"

"The Hook Man is chasing us," Nerissa said worried as she lifted the folding entrance to get behind the counter. "Please Johann, don't let him find us."

Johann looked to the door as the footsteps got closer. He was definitely scared, but then opened one of the hinged doors to the back storage area.

"Hide here," he said motioning them in. "Don't make a peep."

"Thank you," Nerissa said as she led Clay through. Johann held the door steady so it wouldn't flap when he closed it and then did something outside Clay couldn't see. Nerissa led them further into the storage area, but not too far so she could see out the circular windows on the doors.

Clay was glad and worried Nerissa seemed to know everyone in town, including the guy chasing them. 'The Hook Man'? He decided to ask questions later, however, as he heard the front door outside open. It looked like they would have to hide amongst the hanging carcasses and the brisk cold of a meat locker for the moment.

"Holy hell," Johann said followed by a splat on the floor. "Haven't you heard of knocking? That's a perfectly good veal I just ruined."

Johann must have picked up the veal he dropped to lessen suspicion. That's one way to think on his feet!

"Shut the hell up, meat man," a man with a higher pitched but gruff voice said as two pairs of footsteps entered the store. "Where are they?"

"Who?" Johann replied nervously.

"You know who. The guy and the girl. Where are they?"

"Oh those two? I think they ran past the store a few seconds ago. I just figured they were late for the subway."

There was a pause as Clay heard the two people approach Johann. He held Nerissa's hand tighter.

"You lying, you faggoty ass butcher?" The higher pitched man asked.

"L-lying?" Johann stammered. "Why would I lie about that?"

Crap! Johann was losing his cool. Clay breathed heavier, which prompted Nerissa to quietly shush him.

"Did I stutter?" The higher pitched man said more aggressively.

Johann gawked as a squishing sound was heard and his feet slid off the floor. Did the guy just stab him?

"Tell us where they are, now!" A really, really deep voiced man then said.

"I…I told you," Johann uttered between gasps. "They ran past here."

"I'm giving you to the count of three," the higher pitched man said. "And if you don't say anything, Digo here is going to mash your face onto the walls."

Clay's eyes widened. He didn't want to get this guy killed for hiding them. He tried to move, but Nerissa stopped him with her arm and covered his mouth. He tried calming himself down between deep breaths.

"I don't know what to tell you," Johann gasped. "Go…go look down the street."

"…you know what?" The higher pitched man then said as more squishing was heard, presumably from pulling the knife out. "Screw the counting. Do it, Digo."

Johann yelped before a loud slam was heard against a nearby wall. Then another was heard. And another. And another. Each one was followed by a pained groan from Johann that got more muddled from blood.

"That jogging your memory?" The higher-pitched man said.

"I…" Johann said, his words garbled with blood. "I don't…"

"Do it again."

Two more slams were heard, causing Clay to wince harder.

"Is there another way out?" He asked nervously.

"Yes, but they might be waiting out there," she replied.

Just then, Johann's head bumped into the hinged doors ahead of them as he was thrown to the ground.

"Looks like we're going to have to do an impromptu search," the higher-pitched man said chuckling as they walked to the doors.

Nerissa quickly dragged Clay further back into the storage room past the hanging beef. He tried his best not to bump into any of them, which was easier said than done.

"Here!" Nerissa said hushed as they ducked behind a large stack of boxes

"Bring him along," the higher pitched man said to that Digo guy. "Maybe he'll have a change of heart."

Clay peaked out between a crack in the boxes to see the big bearded guy pushing carcasses aside and searching the area. The guy was even more intimidating up close. His scary biker outfit stretched against his bulging muscles and tree trunk like neck. His fingernails were practically claws and his beard was so thick that Clay couldn't even see a mouth. Those beady green eyes searched the area like floodlights as he dragged Johann behind him. The poor butcher's face looked like it had been smacked with a hammer a hundred times. He was surprised the guy was still alive.

Behind the two of them was the man who started this whole thing. Clay recognized the yellow colored Mohawk easy enough, but the rest of him was just an oddity. The guy was dressed in a bright green jacket over a yellow shirt and wore a pair of terribly torn up black jeans. He had two red tears tattooed under his eyes that distracted from the multiple cuts across his face. Half of his left ear was missing too, which added a creepy asymmetrical appearance.

The weirdest part, however, was the thing that was the man's namesake. Apparently it wasn't a knife after all. In place of the right hand, the man had a jagged metal prosthetic hook. Johann's blood dripped from the tip as the man scanned the place behind the big guy.

"Smell anything, Digo?" The Hook Man asked.

"Lots of rotten meat," Digo said sniffing a few more times.

"Well what do you see then?"

"Still more rotten meat."

Small wisps of cold escaped Clay's nostrils as he tried holding his breath. He watched Digo get closer to the boxes and moved away from the opening. He panicked, but as soon as he thought they would get caught, Johann began talking again.

"I told you..." He eked out of his mangled mouth. "Th...there's no..."

"Shut it!" The Hook Man said giving a swift kick to the butcher's ribs. Johann coughed and wheezed as the Hook Man turned back to Digo. "Hey, big bad and hairy! You see them or not?"

After a brief pause, Digo walked back to him. "Nope," he said as he gagged in disgust. "I like my meat dead, but this place sucks."

"Just...leave me alone," Johann groaned.

"I'm not happy with your tone, meat man," The Hook Man said as Clay saw him press his foot onto Johann's ribs. "You've been yanking our chain this whole time. I should cut you up right here and add a little irony to your night."

"Boss said no killing," Digo said.

"Boss said not to kill the boy," The Hook Man pointed out. "He didn't say nothing about assholes and mundies."

"It won't look good to see the town's beloved butcher eviscerated in his own meat locker."

"Fine..." The Hook Man groaned.

The Hook Man picked up Johann, dragged him over to an open meat hook...and impaled him upside down through the man's leg! Clay's mouth dropped as blood dripped off the hook.

"How about you hang around for a while and think about your behavior?" The Hook Man teased. "Then you'll learn not to waste people's time."

"Yeah, like you should too," Digo said as he started leaving. "What should we do about the Mundies?"

"I got a few ideas," The Hook Man said evilly.

Clay and Nerissa waited a while after the guys left the building before leaving their spots. Before Nerissa could say anything though, Clay bolted out of the meat locker to the front. The Hook Man said they were looking for HIM specifically. He wasn't going to let his friends die for him. It didn't matter what those guys would do to him.

He slammed through the hinged doors and was about to hop over the counter.

Until he saw blood splatter onto the window. Outside, that Digo guy continued slamming Mike against the outside wall. All of Clay's courage faded quickly as he ducked beneath the counter. The Hook Man's whiny laughter only made him squirm more.

"Gonna have to ask you more nicely, boy?" The Hook Man said.

"Stop it!" Sally shouted through tears and sorrow. "You're killing him."

"Scream again, bitch! Your pain's delicious!"

Clay heard Mike spit out was what likely a tooth and mutter something.

"Speak up," the Hook Man taunted. "Can't hear you when you mumble."

"You…" Mike struggled to say. "You won't find him."

"Does everyone have to be so disagreeable today?" The Hook Man said annoyed. "Aggie. Golem. You got them under control?"

Nobody replied. In the distance, Clay heard a speeding car coming their way.

"Good," The Hook Man said. "Hey mundies, wanna see something horrible?"

Their footsteps walked back around the corner. Clay decided maybe he should now take the initiative to turn himself in and not be so pathetic.

This turned out to be futile though. As he stood up to walk outside, he saw Mike's bodied body get flung into the street…

...and land right ahead of a speeding taxi.

Time moved in slow motion as Clay was unable to look away. He couldn't see past another parked car on the curb, but had little doubt the sounds he heard were Mike being decapitated underneath the taxi's tire.

"What the hell are you doing?" He heard Digo shout over the sobs from his friends.

"Lightening the load," The Hook Man said. "Serves him right. Grab them."

Clay heard a bunch of footsteps run back down the alley as the taxi driver exited the vehicle in panicked shock over his accidental manslaughter. The feeling was mutual for Clay. His heartbeat was off the charts and his head felt heavy.

"Thanks for helping me down," a familiar voice said behind him.

Clay turned to see Johann resting on Nerissa's shoulder as she helped him walk to the front of the shop. If he wasn't disgusted and terrified enough, the sight of Johann's quickly healing face, the stab wound in his shoulder and that giant hole that should have crippled his leg only made things worse.

"Clay?" Nerissa said seeing his concern.

"I...I can explain," Johann tried to reassure him. It was too late though. The lights were growing dimmer and the room was spinning. Clay had never had this happen before, so he had no idea what to expect.

"Oh god..." was the last thing he heard Nerissa say before he passed out onto the floor. Sound disappeared from existence and all that was left in his body before losing consciousness was sorrow and regret. This was just supposed to be a nice night out...

* * *

**And so begins the story. Let me know what you think in reviews or PM's to me. Your feedback is vital in making things enjoyable for everyone!**


	2. Please Explain

**Hello fellow readers and Fables/TWAU fans alike!**

**First of all, thanks a billion for those of you who have read and reviewed or sent a PM over my story. I'm happy for any feedback positive or negative, because if I didn't write to please you then it wouldn't be worth continuing this story. I hope to continue improving and keeping you entertained, so feel free to keep sending in your reviews and sharing this story with friends.  
**

**Also, feel free to check out my other stories as well: A Life of Service (a Telltale's The Walking Dead game fanfic that's currently on standby) and The Last of an Ancient Breed: A Side Story to the Last Spartan (a spin-off of a very well done Halo/Mass Effect crossover that doesn't require much prior knowledge to jump into).  
**

**With all that housekeeping information out of the way, let's get back to this story. When we last left our heroes, Mike had been murdered, Taylor had been kidnapped and Clay had passed out on Johann's floor. What could possibly be going through his mind right now...?  
**

* * *

Dreams were a funny thing. You could never predict what kind you would have when you slipped out of consciousness. A good day could lead to a nightmare and a bad day could end with a good night's sleep. Perhaps there was some cosmic sleep roulette that decided these things like everything in life.

Clay's current dream, however, was somewhere in between. He didn't feel happy or sad wherever his mind was right now. He just felt…empty. Like there was nothing else in existence but him and the shadowy spaces surrounding him. Here, he was truly alone to his own thoughts.

The darkness parted in front of him and something arose from out of the ground in the distance. It was covered in shadow like everything else, yet it repelled the clouds of blackness like a repellant. It turned to Clay slowly and it beckoned him forward with a muscular, long fingered hand. Everything about this should've prompted him to run, but his feet felt compelled to answer the creature's call.

Each arduous, thudding step seemed to cross a valley's worth of space to bring the two of them together. The already giant creature grew larger and larger until Clay was staring directly up at it. He guessed it was at least a head taller than the two guys who chased him earlier. Though the shadows continued to obscure its image, he could make out the creature's long arms, no necked head, athletic legs and overall misshapen appearance. One could say that it was truly monstrous to behold.

The creature stared at him with a pair of giant grey eyes, growling softly as one of its giant hands rested on his shoulder. Its skin was incredibly hard and cold to the touch, yet the hand felt light as a feather. They continued to stare for a while, silently bonding through this moment of physical contact. As different as they were, there was a feeling that they had each found a kindred spirit.

The creature then gently gripped around his waist with both hands and pulled him towards its chest. Clay closed his eyes and waited for what happened next…

* * *

"Clay? Clay?"

Clay's dream faded into oblivion as Nerssa's voice called him to reality. His eyes fluttered open and he weakly attempted rub his eyes. After a few moments, his vision readjusted to see Nerissa's face right in front of his.

"Oh, thank god," Nerissa said using a hand to feel his forehead. "Are you ok?"

A quick glance around revealed that they were still in Johann's butcher shop. Nerissa was sitting on the ground right at the spot where he collapsed, resting his head on her thigh. Everything around them looked almost exactly as he remembered; barren, battered and slightly bloody where Johann was attacked. This wasn't what he had in mind for waking up next to the one he loved.

"What happened?" He groaned as he sat himself up. He rubbed a small bump on the back of his head from his fall, which made his temples throb.

"You blacked out," she replied.

Blacked out? He couldn't remember why…

"…MIKE!" He shouted and quickly stood up. All of the blood immediately rushed out of his head, causing him to stumble as he walked to the window. Maybe he didn't see everything clearly. Mike could still be ok and not road kill right now. Even better, maybe it was all just a crazy hallucination. People slipped drugs and crazy stuff into drinks at dance clubs all the time, right.

Unfortunately, he was completely sober and he didn't misinterpret a thing. That taxi was still exactly where it had stopped, blood splattering its grill and sides. A corpse missing a head had been moved to the sidewalk and covered with a big black tarp, with a light snowfall covering it with a fine white layer. The taxi driver, a skinny man with a long, blonde ponytail, panicked as he talked to a man and woman in front of him. They weren't cops, but they were clearly here to investigate a crime.

It wouldn't do much to cheer Clay up though. He leaned against the window and stared mournfully at Mike's body. It wasn't a dream. Mike was dead. A group of thugs had kidnapped Taylor and the girls. Everything that happened tonight had happened. And it sucked just as much as he thought it would.

Warm tears escaped from his eyes as he resisted the urge to cry. He couldn't look weak in front of Nerissa. Mike would've scolded him for that. It was hard not to though. A flood of memories poured into his brain trying to provoke his sorrows. The day they first met. That time they crashed a wedding and got thrown out. That time they cooked a pizza with cake frosting for Taylor's birthday. It was too much to hold back.

"Clay…" he heard Nerissa say as she put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Forcing the memories back into his subconscious, he wiped his eyes and started to notice something strange about the crime scene, or lack there of. There wasn't a police car or ambulance in sight. There wasn't any yellow tape sealing off access. Hell, there weren't even onlookers. It was just the two of them and those people by the taxi.

"Where are the cops?" He asked through sniffles.

"What?"

"Where are the goddamn police?" He shouted suddenly unable to control his emotional response. "This place should be crawling with people and it's a goddamn ghost town. Doesn't anybody give a shit that Mike was murdered?"

"A lot more than you think," a familiar voice then said.

They turned to see that sheriff from the café, Bigby Wolf, enter the butcher shop with that woman from outside. He had to admit that she was very pretty, with that raven black hair, pale but healthy complexion and snowflake-patterned blouse covered by her winter jacket creating a very striking image. Almost like a blend of tough and gentle.

Clay leaned back against the window and looked to his feet as Nerissa approached them.

"Is Jack ok?" Nerissa asked looking to the taxi driver, who seemed slightly calmer now.

"Well, he's not going to be driving again for a while," Bigby replied. "How long ago did this happen again?"

"Maybe an hour. Forty-five minutes at the least."

"Shit…" Bigby muttered looking outside. "Last thing we need right now is a dead mundy on our doorstep."

"Any clue where they might have ran off to?" Nerissa asked.

"Not yet," the other woman replied. "The snow's not helping much either."

"So what else can we do?"

"Call the cops?" Clay said looking back to the group. "You know, like for a crime scene."

"We'll get to that," Bigby replied. "We just need to settle a few things first."

Settle? Clay didn't like the sound of that.

"You want to talk to him?" Bigby asked the other woman. "I'm going to make sure Jack doesn't shit himself before the doctor and his boys come."

"Sure," the woman replied not amused by his remark.

Bigby walked back outside to the taxi driver as Nerissa and the woman walked back to Clay.

"It's Clay, right?" The woman asked him.

He nodded.

"My name is Miss White," she replied. "I'm…very sorry for your loss."

Clay crossed his arms and sighed. She wanted to play the 'good cop' card with that gentle voice and her pretty blue eyes, but it wasn't helping much.

"I know it's tough," she continued. "We want to catch the people who did this, but I need to ask both of you a few questions to know where to start. Is that ok?"

He thought it over for a moment before nodding. He was still upset, but maybe answering her questions would calm him down.

"Ok," Miss White said motioning him to sit on the floor. "You can sit if you're still not feeling well."

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

Miss White pulled out a notepad and pen as she started her questions. "When did you first see the attackers?"

"Shortly after we left the Ant and Grasshopper," Nerissa replied for the two of them. "I didn't think much of it until the guy followed us down Storybook Alley."

"Can you describe this man?"

"It was the Hook Man."

Miss White paused her writing for a moment upon hearing that. "The Hook Man? He's been missing for a century."

"I know. He changed his appearance, but I could recognize his voice from anywhere."

It never ceased to amaze Clay how many people Nerissa seemed to know. And did she say a century? That had to just be a figure of speech.

"What does he look like now?" Miss White continued.

"Yellow spiked Mohawk, a green jacket and red tears tattooed under his eyes," Nerissa replied.

"At least he's not playing hard to find. Was he alone?"

"Not after we left the alley. Clay spotted someone else chasing us beside him."

"What did they look like?"

"Suspicious," Clay suddenly jumped in feeling he should answer for himself. "Some woman with a big trench coat and red sunglasses. She was spying on us a few days ago too."

"What?" Nerissa said surprised.

"At Iron John's. I just remember feeling those same…scary vibes like did tonight."

"Scary vibes?" Miss White asked.

"Yeah. I don't know how to explain it. It was just creepy. Like she was radiating fear."

Miss White wrote this down and continued. "How did you find your way to Johann's?"

"They chased us here," Nerissa said. "Johann let us hide in the back room before the Hook Man and Digo could find us."

"Digo?"

"He's supposed to be at the Farm, I know. Someone gave him a glamour too. He's some tall dude now with a big beard and biker clothing."

Again with the people Nerissa knew. He didn't understand of lick of that 'glamour' nonsense, but why should he start following now?

Talking about Johann did make Clay check out the walls they slammed him against. The amount of blood he lost onto those walls probably should have killed him, if not scarred him for life. He then remembered how quickly Johann's face was healing after the fact. That worried Clay more than anything.

"Is Johann ok?" He asked to satiate his curiosity.

"He's fine," Miss White said dismissing his question to ask one to Nerissa. "Did you see Digo or the Hook Man personally kill the mundy?"

There was that word again: mundy. The Hook Man said it earlier and now Bigby and Miss White said it. What kind of slang was that?

"What's a 'mundy'?" He asked.

"It's nothing," Miss White replied.

"If you're calling Mike one, it means something," he said holding back his frustration.

"Clay-" Nerissa tried to say.

"No. If Mike is a 'mundy,' I should at least know what that means."

The two women looked to each other like they wanted to avoid something.

"What?" He said. "Look, you want to know if we saw them? Yes. I saw all those jackasses throw Mike into the street. The 'Hook Man,' 'Digo,' 'Aggie' and 'Golem' or whatever stupid nicknames people give each other here."

He stopped Miss White before she could say what was on her mind. "Yes, Golem," he said sarcastically. "I'm sure he broke out of the 'Farm' or drifted into town after hiding for a century or however they come into town. Should I be aware of anywhere else where murderous goons might escape from?"

"Clay—" Nerissa tried again.

"No! Just…just sto, ok. Stop trying to ignore me with this cryptic stuff. You want me to help. Please tell me what you're talking about. What's a 'mundy'? What's a 'Farm?' Why would these guys want to kill Mike? Please!"

The room was silent as he waited for an answer. Nerissa and Miss White looked incredibly confused. It didn't seem like they couldn't answer, but they just wouldn't.

Clay sighed and turned his back to them while rubbing his head. He was upset and venting at these two ladies wasn't helping anything. One of his best friends was dead and he hadn't eaten in hours. It was a bad combination to say in the least.

"We don't know why, Clay," Miss White finally said trying to stay reasonable. "We don't know why they would kill him. All we know is that they're dangerous and we want to stop them from hurting your other friends too."

"Well," Clay said. "Just answer my questions then."

"I can't. You just have to play along for a little longer."

"Play along?"

At that moment, Bigby walked back into the shop.

"Alright, what are you shouting about this time?" He asked.

"It's nothing," Miss White replied. Clay was too distraught to argue so he just ignored it as she continued. "We have an ID on who did this now."

She walked to Bigby as Nerissa looked over to Clay with those sad eyes. He knew he was being irrational right now. His stomach grumbled again as he tried to relax. She didn't deserve seeing this side of him.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," he mumbled.

"I've lost friends too," she replied understandingly. "It's part of the process."

He sighed relieved that she wasn't angry. It only made his stomach rumble more though. "God, I'm hungry…"

"We'll get something when we're done," Nerissa replied as they saw Bigby and Snow White return to them.

"It's time," Miss White said to Nerissa.

"Do you have to?" She asked crossing her arms and looking disappointed.

"You know this would happen when you started dating a mundy." Bigby said pulling something from his pocket. So Clay was a 'mundy' too? He was starting to really dislike that word.

What got his attention more, however, was that thing in Bigby's hand. It was a small clear vial sealed with a cork filled with blue liquid. He swore he saw something like that in one of Mike's fantasy novels. That was not exactly a good sign.

"I know you have a lot of questions," Bigby said as he approached Clay and shook the vial lightly, with the liquid quickly flashing a bright blue. "Well, I'm going to be honest. There aren't any answers I can give; at least not ones that would make you feel better. This might help though."

He held up the vial as he continued. "The stuff in this vial is…powerful. When I open it, it'll put you in a deep sleep. When you wake up, there'll be cops and doctors to your heart's content. You'll forget what happened tonight, but it'll be worth it."

If Bigby thought this would calm Clay down, he was gravely mistaken. This was preposterous sounding! What, were they going to force it down his throat? Throw it at his face? He looked over to Nerissa, who could only look down at the ground sadly. He then looked to Miss White, who didn't even flinch at his concern. It was like he was trapped.

"Clay," Bigby said trying to get his attention. "I need you to trust me. It'll only take a second."

Clay's heart beat quickly as Bigby loosened the vial's cork. Could he run away? Bigby was pretty tough looking, but maybe he could slip past him and find someone who could actually help. Before he could decide, Bigby had already opened the vial.

A flash of blue light shone violently out of the bottle with a screeching sound, causing Clay to shield his eyes. What the hell was this? The light continued to shine as he waited for something to happen

….and he waited…

…and waited…

…and waited even as it stopped flashing and the noise had silenced.

"…the hell?" He heard Bigby say. That didn't sound good.

He opened his eyes to see everyone look surprised at him. Did he do something? He looked down at his body, only to see that everything looked fine.

"What?" He asked looking back up.

"Do you…feel any different?" Bigby asked.

"Huh?"

"Do you know who I am?"

Was this supposed to be a trick question? He glanced to Nerissa confused before answering. "Um…you're Bigby Wolf?"

Bigby then turned to Miss White. "You said it was a double dose!"

"It WAS a double dose," Miss White said defensively. "The thirteenth floor witches never give underpowered spells."

"Guess there's a first for everything," he said chucking the vial off to the side.

Witches? Spells? This was starting to scare Clay. What kind of people did he get himself involved with?

"Shit…" Bigby grumbled. "Mundies aren't supposed to be immune to memory wipe spells."

"We don't know that," Miss White said. "Maybe some of them have a natural resistance to magic."

"Name one time where that was true."

Talking about magic was the final straw for Clay. He looked to Nerissa trying to see where she stood with this. Not getting anything useful from her, he figured he had to act now before something else goes terribly wrong.

"Well what do you suggest then?" Miss White said. "He's heard too much now."

"What? You think we're gonna—hey!" Bigby shouted as Clay bolted past him. He had to find a cop now before they did some other crazy thing to him.

Before he could reach the door, Bigby grabbed his shirt collar and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Let me go!" He shouted.

"Clay, stop!" Nerissa called to him.

The two of them wrestled for a few seconds, with Clay slamming Bigby back against a wall trying to break free. Bigby was really strong, but he sensed the guy wasn't using all his strength. He used that to force Bigby's arm off his waist and shove him back towards the other women.

"Stop it!" Miss White shouted.

"Shut up!" Clay shouted back pointing an accusatory finger at them. "You people are crazy! Magic? Witches? Farms with killer psychos? What the hell are you smoking?"

"Clay," Miss White said trying to calm things down. "You have to—"

"No! I don't have to do jack! One of my best friends is dead and the other is at the mercy of murderers. And all you can do is play around with fake magic and cryptic shit? Well I'm done 'playing along!' I'm going to march this door right now and call the police unless you can give me one good reason why everything you're saying isn't absolute insanity!"

His deep, angry breaths were the only sounds breaking the silence now. Bigby was doing his best to keep his cool as he shot a glance to Miss White. She shrugged in reply, trying to keep her eyes on Clay should he run. Bigby then looked to Nerissa, who simply nodded in agreement. Miss White then quickly glared at her, clearly disapproving of whatever they were thinking of.

Clay's patience for this cryptic stuff was wearing out. If Nerissa was playing along with this 'hush hush' stuff too, then he had to be the one who actually did something. He reached for the door again.

"Wait!" Nerissa finally said. The room fell silent as everyone waited to hear what she would say. She nervously rubbed her arm, trying not to meet Miss White's glare as she continued. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you."

"Don't you dare—"

"Let her talk!" Clay interrupted as he corrected his tone before talking to Nerissa. "Honey…please, tell me. I just want to know."

With a deep sigh, Nerissa walked up to him, held one of his hands in hers, looked him in the eyes….and said something he didn't understand.

"We're Fables."

That…wasn't what he expected. Fables? He saw Bigby cross his arms and Miss White look like she was having a panic attack. He was simply at a loss for words. He thought it over before answering with the only response he deemed appropriate.

"…huh?"

"The three of us," Nerissa explained. "Johann. Those guys. We're Fables. You know, 'fairy tales,' 'folk tales' or whatever mundies call us."

Clay rubbed the back of his head confused. So…his girlfriend's explanation for why everything was happening tonight was that they were all fairy tales? Maybe he was actually hallucinating.

"…Fables?" He asked as if he misheard.

She nodded.

"Like characters made up in storybooks and farmer's stories?"

She nodded again, this time sensing his disbelief.

"So what," he said pointing to Bigby. "Is he Prince Charming? Maybe the Beast?"

"Clay, I'm not kidding."

"Really? Because you telling me you're…you're a fairy tale sounds a little crazy."

"How about you shut up and listen to her, asshole?" Bigby said.

"Listen, whiskey throat, I'm not trying to be unreasonable. I just…fairy tales aren't real. They're stories and rhymes made up to teach children and scare people. You know that right? So telling me you're one is a really bold claim without something to prove it."

Bigby groaned and rubbed his face before looking back at him. "Alright. You want proof?"

"A little wouldn't hurt."

Bigby then turned to Miss White. "Tell him to come out."

"What?" She asked surprised.

"He's hiding behind the door to the back room."

"I'm not behind the—" a shrill sounding voice called out from behind the door, alerting everyone towards its direction. "Darn…"

"Bufkin!" Miss White said annoyed as she crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"

"I got lonely at the office," the voice said. "How did you know I was here?"

"You can't fool the nose," Bigby said pointing to his own. "Come out now."

"But he'll see me."

"That's the point. Do it."

The door slowly pushed open and very, very small footsteps were heard. Clay couldn't tell if this was a joke though, as he couldn't see anyone walk out of the room. If they were pulling his leg, he'd—

And that's when he saw the single strangest thing in his life!

A pair of small hands reached up to the counter and something climbed on top of it. It was short, no more than a couple feet tall. It was hairy too, but its hair was green as freshly watered grass. His first thought was that it was a monkey, but it had wings! His mouth dropped wide open and his body shook as the monkey looked up to him.

"Surprise?" It said smiling nervously.

Clay's legs shook even harder hearing it talk that it caused him to lose balance.

"Oh god," Nerissa said as she caught him before he fell. "Let's not do that again."

Clay tried to focus himself as he looked back at the monkey thing again in shock. Maybe that blue vial shit was causing him to hallucinate. It could be the only logical explanation.

"So you left the office completely unattended?" Bigby asked the monkey.

"Of course not," the monkey replied. "Nobody was waiting outside, so I asked Flycatcher to keep an eye on the place. You two always get to do the fun stuff. I thought I could try helping for once."

Ok, so they could see the monkey too. That wasn't helping his disbelief. He got back to his feet with Nerissa's help and pointing a shaking finger at the monkey. "Wha…what is that?"

"That's rather rude," the monkey said indignantly putting its hands to its sides. "I'm not a 'that.' I'm a monkey and my name is Bufkin, thank you."

"M-Monkeys don't talk," Clay replied still shocked he was having this conversation. "You have those…those—"

"These?" Bufkin said stretching out his wings. "Those are…alright, you got me there. Normal monkeys don't have wings."

"He's a flying monkey," Nerissa said to Clay trying to calm him down. "The mundies mention them in that Wizard of Oz book."

The Wizard of Oz? Like that book with the girl from Kansas? He never read the book, but he did see the movie and Bufkin didn't look like the monkeys from there. "So…" He started to say looking to Nerissa concerned. "Is Dorothy real then?"

"We don't like to talk about her, but yeah," Nerissa replied without a lick of sarcasm.

"And the—"

"All real. The Lion and Tin Man live in the Jersey Pine Barren."

"Believe her now?" Bigby said smugly.

Clay looked over to him, then to Miss White, then back to Bufkin and then to the floor as he processed this. So this was a flying monkey from _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ and all of those people in it were real? He must be hallucinating. That thing couldn't be real.

He reached over and ran his hand across Bufkin's head.

"Hey!" Bufkin said pushing it away. "I just brushed that."

Well, that proved Bufkin was actually there. Clay continued to shake as he turned to Bigby. "Who are you then?"

"Ever heard of the Big Bad Wolf?" Bigby replied.

Clay nodded.

"I don't think I need to say anything else."

"Please don't," Miss White replied not clearly not happy with the situation. She paced over to the window and fiddled with her hands. "God, Coal is going to kill us."

"What else were we supposed to do, Snow?" Bigby replied.

"We shouldn't have just told him," she said turning back to him. "Do you know how many rules we're breaking here?"

"It was that or let him bring more mundies here."

"Wouldn't he be just as likely to do that now that he knows?"

"Snow?" Clay interrupted quietly. "Like…Snow White?"

"Yes," Miss White replied passive aggressively before directing back to Bigby. "We should have consulted the witches first."

"Yeah," Bigby replied sarcastically. "Because strolling a mundy through the thirteenth floor is so much better, huh?"

"What's a mundy?" Clay asked. They were using that word enough now to bug him.

"It means 'mundane,'" Snow White explained annoyed. "Normal people without magical abilities or not from the Homelands."

"Well what makes you magical outside of vials full of blue light? At least that looks like a creature," he said pointing at Bufkin and looking to Bigby. "Hell, how are you the Big Bad Wolf? You're a human."

"Again with the hurtful words," Bufkin mumbled.

"You saw Johann's face, Clay," Nerissa pointed out. "A mundy couldn't handle that much abuse Digo gave him. Hell, he barely could either."

He looked back to the bloodied walls thinking about that. He remembered Johann's face looking like it was hit with a dozen hammers when Digo dragged him. When Nerissa brought him back out front though, those wounds and cuts were closing up like nothing he had ever seen before.

"So what? You guys can't die then?"

"No," Bigby replied. "It's just a lot harder to kill us."

"Well, then who are you?" Clay then asked Nerissa.

Nerissa sighed before answering. "They used to call me 'The Little Mermaid.'"

So he was now in the presence of a mermaid, a wolf, a monkey and Snow White? This was probably some writer's wet dream, but it just weirded him the hell out.

"This was a mistake," Snow said to Bigby. "Now we've got a mundy who knows we exist and no way to fix that."

"You think this isn't bothering me too?" Bigby replied annoyed. "If you really think it'll help, we'll go back to the thirteenth floor and get the witches to make a better spell."

"There ISN'T a better one. Bigby. That's the best we could get. If he leaves this store tonight, we're putting the whole community at risk."

"Why?" Clay asked worried by her context.

"It's how things work," she replied ignoring his presence. "Mundies are too curious about these things. If he tells even one person, we'll have people poking around every corner of Fabletown."

"So what?" Bigby asked. "You proposing we kill him? Drug him up and keep him hostage? Think that'll go over any better?"

"I wasn't implying that. We already have enough on our plate with the dead mud-Mike to deal with," she said noting Clay's concern.

"What do you mean 'deal with'?" Clay asked.

"We were going to wipe your memory, put you both in a different part of town and let his murder go unsolved," Snow said bluntly. "That way, they couldn't trace you back here."

"WHAT?" He shouted. He heard some messed up ideas before, but that was at least in his top five.

"Well we can't know," she said looking back to Bigby. "So what else can we do?"

"Just forget it," Nerissa said drawing everyone's attention. "We just keep things going like they have been."

"Are you serious?" Snow replied.

"Why not? Look, I'm sorry I cared enough about him that I let him wander the town for one night, but that's what happened. We just have to live with it."

"Nerissa, You don't—"

"What? Just because I have an emotional attachment here, I can't have a say in what happens? Clay can keep a secret. It's not like we haven't been doing that for years. What's the worse thing that could happen if he knows?"

Clay then remembered one key detail he had forgotten about from last night.

"You might get hurt when they come looking for me," he said.

Everyone turned to him surprised.

"What?" Snow asked.

"They said they were looking for me specifically," he replied.

"You?" Bigby asked. "Why would they be looking for you?"

"Hell if I know. Like you said, there's 'nothing special about a mundy,'" he said not able to hide his sarcasm. "They killed Mike because he didn't tell them where I was hiding. They could hurt someone else too."

Snow and Bigby looked to each other as they thought over this missing piece of information.

"That would have been good to know earlier," Snow said groaning. "Crap."

"It's not like they can break into the Woodlands," Bigby replied. "There are more than enough people there to—"

"They nearly killed Johann to look for the guy," she interrupted. "And consider who's in that group. I don't think they're afraid of a few big creatures blocking the doors to an apartment complex."

"Well then, what else can we do?"

"Take him home," Nerissa suddenly suggested.

Now it was Clay's turn once more to be confused. "Huh?

"They're probably expecting us to bring Clay back to the Woodlands," she explained to Bigby and Snow. "And I'm sure they know where I live. I doubt they've been to Clay's part of the city though. There's too many mundies there who might sense something suspicious going on. If you hide Clay and me there for a while, we can be out of the way while you continue investigating."

"How do you know they won't be there?" Bigby asked.

"I don't. It's just a hunch. Those guys are dangerous, but I wouldn't call any of them very bright."

Bigby and Snow quietly discussed the idea as Clay leaned over to Nerissa. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He whispered.

"No," she replied. "It's the only thing I could think of. Plus, I finally get to see where you live, so it can't be all bad."

Clay rolled his eyes. He wasn't opposed to the idea, but bringing it up now wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

"Where do you live?" Snow then asked him.

"Twenty minutes north of here," he replied. "I can give you directions."

Snow pondered that for another few seconds and then pulled out a pair of keys as she turned to Bigby. "We'll drop them off and get back to the main office as soon as we can. Bufkin will wait here until Doctor Swineheart's finished with Johann so they can handle Mike's body."

"Sounds like a plan," Bigby said heading for the door. "Let's get going."

Nerissa tugged Clay's arm as they followed the other two out. Before they left, Clay looked back to see Bufkin waving at him.

"Nice to meet you," Bufkin said as the door closed.

Well, that image would linger in Clay's mind as they drove back to his place…

* * *

The drive to Clay's apartment was silent for the first several minutes. Snow took the wheel with Bigby in the passenger seat while Clay and Nerissa sat in the back. It's not that no one had anything to say. Clay's mind was busy processing a dozen things at once trying to make sense of everything. All this time, he had been dating a mermaid. He was sure there was a movie about that somewhere.

He looked to Nerissa, who continued to stare out her window quietly. He was sure she was trying to think over everything that happened too, including him yelling at her. Calling your girlfriend crazy wasn't exactly a small thing, no matter how intense the situation was. He figured apologizing would be a good place to start a conversation.

"I'm sorry I called you crazy," he said to her.

"Thank you," she replied.

Ok, that was too easy. "Really, I mean it. It…it was stupid."

"I know, honey."

He sighed. Ok, so she wasn't as mad as he feared, though she hadn't exactly said she forgave him. He decided to just cut through the façade and ask his questions. "So…you're all fairy tales?"

"Fables," Snow corrected him.

"Hm?"

"We're called Fables."

"Ok…Fables. How did you, um, you know, come into being?"

"'Come into being'?" Nerissa asked amused. "We're not gods, Clay."

"I know. I mean, where did you come from. You mentioned something about a…a Homeland, right? Where is that?"

"It's hard to explain."

"To a mundy or in general."

"Both."

"Ok," he said. Looks like there was still going to be some vagaries with his answers, so he just had to deal with it. "Why are you guys in New York City? Is it part of the Homelands?"

"It wasn't our choice," Bigby said as the car came to a stop. "Shit."

Clay looked out the windshield to see construction signs blocking the road to his apartment. To be fair, he usually took the subway or walked home. Nobody drove in this part of New York.

"Take a right and turn on the third street to the left," he said as Snow did so. "What do you mean 'not your choice'?"

"We were forced out," Snow answered. "We lived in our own realms and kingdoms before the Adversary's army killed or chased out most of their inhabitants. This was the only place we could find refuge."

"The Adversary."

"Let's not talk about that, please."

"But you brought him up."

"And I immediately regret it. Sorry, it's a touchy subject."

Clay rolled his eyes before continuing. "How long ago was that?"

"A few centuries, give or take a decade," Bigby replied.

"Seriously, how long ago?"

"Did I stutter?"

Clay realized he wasn't kidding, though he figured everything they told him from this point forward would have to be true. He looked to Nerissa, whose blushing expression only furthered that fact. "So wait, you're—"

"We age gracefully," she answered for him. He couldn't argue with that, though he suddenly felt like he was too young for Nerissa now.

"Ok, so you're all centuries old and lived in some 'Homelands' before some 'Adversary' kicked you out. So if you're a mermaid and he's a wolf, how do you-?"

"Look normal?" Bigby added.

"Look human."

"So we're just going to tell him everything, aren't we?" Snow said irritated.

"You don't have to."

"You'll keep asking if we don't," she replied sighing. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you mean well, but we shouldn't even be having this conversation."

"And yet here we are," Bigby said. "Can't exactly use a time travel spell and take that back."

"If he's immune to magic, it wouldn't matter anyway."

"So," Clay said jumping back in. "That vial was—"

"Magic," Bigby answered as he pulled something out of the car's glove compartment. "And so is this."

Clay examined the thing in his hand carefully. It was like some kind of wooden tube with ancient looking drawings carved into it.

"What's that?" He asked.

"A tube," Bigby replied sarcastically.

"You kept one?" Snow asked him.

"Aunty Greenleaf has dozens of them. I figured I could keep one as a keepsake."

"They're called 'Glamours,'" Nerissa added. "The local witches create them to disguise non-human Fables so they could blend in with the mundies…for a price."

"We don't have a lot of say over how our appearances turn out," Bigby said. "But everyone says this fits my personality, so I can't complain."

"So you use them too?" Clay asked looking to Nerissa's legs.

"No," she replied shaking her head. "I couldn't afford Glamours back then, so I had to get real ones."

An awkward pause followed as Clay kept back the thought of her having her tail hacked off. "Do…do they hurt?"

"Every now and then," she said. That kind of explained a lot now that he thought of it.

"Are we done with the twenty questions?" Snow said as they turned a corner.

"You did give us permission to tell him everything," Nerissa said.

"What?"

"Well you didn't say no."

Snow grumbled as she kept driving. At least Nerissa was still on Clay's side with all of this. It didn't ease his most pressing concern though.

"Why do you think these guys are chasing me?" He asked.

Not a clue," Bigby said as the apartment complex came into view. "One thing's for sure though: they're not people to tread lightly around."

"Who are they?"

"The Hook Man, the Black Aggie, the Golem and the Wendigo."

"Never heard of them."

"You probably have. Their stories are passed in enough circles where you've had to heard of them at least once."

"Stories"

"It's how Fables get their power," Nerissa explained. "The more people who know a Fable's story, the stronger and more durable they are."

"I've never heard of Johann before. How did he survive all of that?"

"You know that 'Three men in a tub' rhyme?"

Three men in a tub? He thought it over until a tune popped in his head. Rub-a-dub-dub. Three men in a tub…

"Is there a baker and candlesti—?" He started to ask before realizing that he knew the answer.

"Their shops are next to his," Nerissa replied stating the obvious.

Thinking about Johann and the butcher shop suddenly made Clay's stomach growl loudly again. He rubbed it hoping they would get to his place soon. At least there was a fully stocked kitchen waiting to be exploited by him.

"You don't handle being hungry well, do you?" Bigby said looking back to him through the rear view mirror. Clay could feel the man's sharp eyes study him curiously. So he was hungry. Big deal.

"I'm a growing boy," he replied sarcastically turning to Snow. "So, what about you? Is Prince Charming and the dwarves-?"

The car came to a sudden halt before he could finish, causing him to bump his head into the back of Bigby's seat.

"We don't talk about them," Bigby said looking at him. "More touchy subjects."

Clay could see Snow's frustration through the rearview mirror, so he followed Bigby's advice. He rubbed his head to see that they had arrived at his apartment complex. A feeling of relief came over him seeing the place. It was somewhere he knew he could be safe through almost any hard time. And there was the food too!

"Take them upstairs," Snow said to Bigby putting the car in park and turning to Clay and Nerissa. "Don't leave the building until either Bigby or myself gives you the ok. Don't answer the phone or let anyone else in otherwise. Ok?"

"What if Taylor or the girls come back?" Clay asked.

"Only Bigby or me," she emphasized. "Got it?"

Clay wasn't happy hearing that, but he nodded to please her. He figured he would let Taylor and the girls in anyway. It's not like they could stop him.

"Good," Snow said and looked to Bigby. "Don't take too long."

"It's just a few flights," Bigby said looking at the complex. "I'll be back in no time."

With that, Bigby, Clay and Nerissa exited the car to walk to the complex. Clay looked back one more time to see Snow recline her seat back and close her eyes clearly plotting out what to do next. It's not she was the only one displeased with how tonight went. One of his friends was dead and a bunch of evil fairy tales were hunting for him. That seemed astronomically worse than one human knowing their secret community existed.

He looked to Nerissa as they kept walking. She smiled back at him a little, though he sensed she didn't want him to hold her hand or say anything right now. He didn't blame her. Even though his fantasy was being realized of them being in the same apartment together, there wasn't anything intimate about this situation. He was sure she thought about the same questions he had right now. Could this be the end of their relationship? Would they be able to keep things going if it wasn't? There didn't seem to be an easy answer.

He sighed as they entered the complex's doors. This mess had better not last longer than one night…

* * *

**End of chapter 2!**

**I made this chapter notably shorter so you all didn't have to slog through another twenty-two pages worth of content this time around. Plus, it's a wind down/exposition chapter. We don't need to make those longer than absolutely necessary!**

**How did this chapter turn out? Feel free to leave your comments here and thank you once again. I hope to keep pumping these out on a weekly basis, give or take a day based on what's going on in my life. So fear not, for the story will continue.**


	3. Say Goodbye to the Old

**So much has happened since the last chapter update. Most of which I don't care to explain due to the frustrating memories behind it, but nonetheless here I am and here is the next chapter in Clay's journey through the world of Fables.**

**Now I'm sure there's at least one of you who is asking, 'Hey Zgamer, how come there isn't really any action in the story so far?' Aside from being surprised at who would ask that, your wish is now granted. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Clay, Nerissa, and Bibgy uncomfortably shared space as the elevator ascended to the fifth floor. The lights from the proceeding floors slowly flickered and disappeared one after the other. The smell of cleaning products, cigarette smoke, Bigby's sweat and Nerissa's perfume created an incredibly potent stink. It wasn't an enjoyable ride, but it hadn't really been an enjoyable night.

And for Clay, it wasn't ending very soon. Provided no one else wanted to kick down his door tonight, he had plenty of questions to ask Nerissa. All this talk of 'adversaries,' 'homelands,' and fairy tale stuff hadn't satisfied his curiosity, even after seeing Bufkin for himself. There wouldn't be any more 'just trust me' moments with them. If they were going to find Mike's killer, he wanted to know everything he could.

His stomach growled loudly, drawing a curious glance from Nerissa. He awkwardly put a hand to his stomach and looked away. Well, maybe they would talk after he had something to eat. His hunger pains could get pretty violent if left unchecked.

He noticed Bigby shoot him a quick glance as they reached the fifth floor.

"Should've stayed out of trouble," The sheriff muttered purposefully reminding him of their earlier chat at the café.

The elevator doors opened to an unusually dark hallway. Two of the main lights had blown out since Clay left the building, with only slivers of light from the other apartment doors shining a path. The group hesitated to exit at first. It seemed an ideal place for a trap as any.

Bigby then sighed and walked out first to check the area. Clay and Nerissa stood back as the elevator doors closed behind them, further cutting down the amount of light available.

"You live here?" Nerissa asked noticing some large grease stains on the wall and a loud argument coming from the apartment next to them.

"Yup," Clay replied. "Not exactly the Ritz, huh?"

He then looked forward to see Bigby give them the all clear. Finally…

Clay took the lead and hurriedly walked down the hall. Even with this little light, he knew the way to his apartment. It was kind of easy when it was at the end of the hall. The walk down felt longer than usual though, given his lingering anxiety and growing hunger. Still, he was eager to be somewhere familiar where he felt safe.

They eventually made it to the door, much to his relief. He reached into his pocket to find his key…

…when Bigby grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Hey-!" Clay said as Bigby's hand covered his mouth. The sheriff then pointed to what alerted his attention.

Nothing seemed out of place with the door at first glance. It hadn't been damaged and nothing seemed out of place around it. It was just open and the lights were off in—

Oh…it was open. That was a problem. Mike had only reminded Clay three times before the date to lock that door. Clay could be forgetful, but even he knew he had done that.

Bigby moved Clay towards Nerissa and silently shushed them before putting a hand to his ear. Clay decided to try listening too. Again, nothing initially seemed out of the ordinary, though the now muffled arguing behind them made it hard to focus.

Then he heard something. Someone's foot tapped the back of the door and there was a soft clink followed by a hand grabbing the source of the sound. He saw Nerissa react to the noise too, so it wasn't just him. Maybe this was still a trap!

Bigby motioned them to go back to the elevator before pressing himself on the wall next to the door. Clay glanced back to the elevator quickly. It's not like they would make it far if there was more than one person hiding inside. He decided to wait and see what happened as he saw Bigby's hand reach for the doorknob.

Before the sheriff reached it though, there was another sound from inside. Whoever was hiding behind the door took a deep breath anticipating their arrival. For a moment, Clay could have sworn that breathing sounded familiar.

Bigby then flung open the door and ran inside to confront the intruder. Unfortunately, he was too slow to react as Taylor's bedroom lamp swung into his face, smashing the bulb against his temple. Bigby stumbled as the intruder threw a punch into his face and then rammed him against the wall. The darkness inside obscured the fight, but Clay saw Bigby catch the intruder's hand mid-punch and violently twist their arm. The intruder yelled trying to free himself from the grip.

That's when Clay realized they made a mistake. That yell was too familiar to be anyone else's.

Before he could say something, Bigby flipped the intruder onto the ground with a loud thud. The intruder tried scrambling back to his feet, only to be stopped by the sheriff's knee pinning down his chest. Bigby then wrapped a hand around their throat, ignoring the feeble attempts to fight back,

"Try anything else and I'll tear your throat out, ass wipe," Bigby threatened. The man could only gag in response trying to free himself.

Clay immediately ran in and flipped on the nearest light switch, immediately confirming his suspicions.

"Bigby, stop!" Clay shouted. "It's Taylor!"

Bigby looked to him confused, though he didn't budge an inch. Clay knew without doubt now it was Taylor. He could recognize his friend's ugly mug and clothes from anywhere. He swore Taylor's eyes were changing colors from Bigby choking him though.

"It's Clay's friend!" Nerissa said following behind Clay. "Let him go!"

Bigby immediately released Taylor and stood up so the poor guy could catch his breath. Clay couldn't believe his luck. Even though Taylor sported a few more bruises than when they last saw each other, him being alive was good enough for Clay.

"God…" Taylor wheezed between deep breaths as he slowly stood up. "The hell was that for-?"

"Taylor!" Clay shouted as he wrapped his arms around Taylor's chest.

"Still can't breathe…"

"Sorry," Clay apologized releasing the hug.

"Jesus," Taylor said as he looked to Bigby. "You…you could have killed me."

Bigby shot Taylor a glare and crossed his arms.

"He was just worried," Clay excused. "I mean, why were you hiding behind the door?"

"I thought those assholes found me. I…I didn't think you'd make it back here…"

Clay could see Taylor trying to conceal a trembling hand as his friend leaned against a wall. He couldn't blame the guy. Whatever those guys did to him, it couldn't have been pleasant.

"Were you followed?" Bigby asked.

"No…" Taylor replied. "I mean…I don't think so. I thought I lost them, but I…I don't…"

"Hey," Clay said wrapping an arm around Taylor's shoulders. "It's alright. Come on."

Clay led Taylor to the living room couch, with Nerissa following them as they all sat down. Bigby decided to wander about the apartment instead, looking around every corner for…something. At least this would give Taylor a short reprieve from the big, bad detective.

"God," Taylor muttered putting a hand to his face and exhaling loudly. "Clay…Mike…Mike's dead."

I know," Clay replied equally somber.

Taylor sniffled trying not to cry. That was incredibly out of character for him, but Clay wouldn't judge. Taylor had been attacked twice in one night and they had both lost a friend not more than an hour ago. Even tough guys had a breaking point.

"It happened so fast," Taylor continued to mumble. "I…I don't know…know what—"

"Relax," Nerissa said putting a hand on his knee. "Take a deep breath."

Taylor did so as he rested his hands on his knees. He was trembling less now, but he was still on edge.

"Shit…" He apolohized. "Sorry, I just…I can't believe it."

"Me neither." Clay replied as he watched Bigby pull out a lighter and pack of cheap looking cigarettes.

"Need one" The sheriff said offering one to Taylor.

"I don't smoke," Taylor replied.

"Suit yourself." Bigby said lighting it for himself and taking a puff. "Feeling any calmer?"

"…a little."

"I know this isn't an 'ideal time,' but there are still lives at stake. If we're going to find those girls, I need you to tell me everything that happened between when you got captured and now."

Taylor leaned back on the couch and exhaled loudly.

"Can you do that for us?"

"Don't pressure him," Nerissa defended.

"It's fine," Taylor replied looking at Bigby. "After those…did what they did, they threw me into a big van. There weren't any windows so I couldn't see where they were taking us, but I heard one of them say something about…eating us."

Clay held back his surprised reaction to let Taylor continue.

"By the time they started slowly down, I plotted an escape. It didn't take much effort. As soon as they opened the doors, I rammed a foot right into that bearded bastard's face and ran like lightning."

"What about Cheryl and Sally?" Nerissa asked.

"Who?"

There was an awkward pause before Clay clarified. "Um…your girlfriend and Mike's date?"

"Oh right," Taylor said trying to correct his memory lapse. "Sorry. I told them about the plan when we stopped. They said they could keep up, but when I ran the other big guy grabbed them. Then everyone else started chasing me and I…well…"

There was a dramatic pause before Nerissa realized what he meant. "…you abandoned them!" She said surprised.

"What else could I do? Either they killed all of us right there or I go find help. I'm not proud of it if that's what you're asking."

Clay could see Bigby's distrusting glare from the corner of his eye. He just excused it as part of being the sheriff, but Bigby better stop soon.

"So yeah, I ran as fast as I could with those maniacs behind me. Then I found a store to hide in and waited until the coast was clear. After that, I ran here to call for help and then you came. That's all that happened."

Clay saw Nerissa sigh hearing the story. He knew she was worried for Cheryl and Sally, especially if being eaten is one of the possible outcomes.

"God…" Taylor sighed. "Who the hell are these people? And who the hell is he?"

"He's…the local sheriff," Clay answered for Bigby to avoid the whole Fables talk. "He's going to find the guys who did this."

"How do we know he's not with them?"

"Not killing you back at the door should be proof enough," Bigby replied taking another drag from his cigarette.

"Fine. Well, then how did you all escape?"

"We hid in the butcher shop," Nerissa replied.

"Really? Where?"

"In the back area. Why?"

"Just curious. Those guys said they searched the whole area."

Clay was about to comment on that weirdly cryptic statement until his stomach growled loudly. He put a hand to his stomach and turned to see an amused Taylor.

"Sounds like a caged lion in there," his friend joked.

"A very hungry one," Clay joked back. "You mind…?"

"Go ahead," Nerissa replied. "We're not going anywhere."

Clay smiled as he sat up. It's not like wanted to leave, but he could feel the hunger pains get more intense. They didn't need him being grumpy right now.

As he left, he noticed Bigby go back to searching the apartment while the others talked more. He wasn't sure what Bigby was trying to find, but he wasn't in the mood to find out.

He entered the kitchen and opened his food cabinets. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to go grocery shopping that day due to the date planning, because all he had available was some uncooked rice and moldy potatoes from who knows when. It wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.

His stomach growled even louder than before, causing his stomach to cramp. The hunger pains were intensifying. He had to get something in him soon or it could get ugly.

It was then that he looked over and saw Mike's cabinets slightly open. It was fully stocked and everything looked fresh inside. The thought crossed his head immediately to eat as much of the food as possible. It's not like Mike would need it any more. There was a part of him that felt bad for thinking that though. The number one rule of the kitchen was to not take Mike's food unless permission was given. Would he be so quick as to tarnish Mike's memory like that?

Another intense stomach cramp answered that question quickly. He silently asked for Mike's forgiveness as he flung open the cabinet doors and scanned his options.

It was like peering into heaven to see those shelves completely stocked with food. Bread, vegetables, cakes and everything else needed to satisfy an empty stomach was at his disposal. Even in death, Mike was still the best! Without wasting a second, Clay grabbed the loaf of wheat bread from the bottom shelf.

His initial plan was to make a sandwich. It wouldn't be anything too crazy. Maybe a four layer sandwich to start.

As he pulled the first slice out though, an impulsive thought came to him. Why should he wait? He was hungry now. That bread looked really delicious. It taunted him with its processed goodness and little grains around the crust. His finger twitched as he thought it over for another second. That was all he needed to decide.

Within seconds, he was stuffing slices of bread into his mouth. He had to remind himself to chew as he furiously consumed the loaf until it was gone. All he could think to do right now was eat

And he wasn't done with that. He reached into the cabinet and grabbed a bag of fresh carrots. They didn't last long either.

From there, he went on to eat the whole box of saltines in the cabinet. Then the canned corn was gone. Then he ate all the tuna. Then he ate all the boxes of cereal. He couldn't stop himself. When he was in an eating frenzy like this, the impulse to gorge had to be satiated. Hell, he even went back to his cabinet and poured the uncooked rice down his throat too!

He eventually ate all the food that didn't have to be cooked and moved to the fridge. Upon eating the bag of apples there, he found his real prize in the form of Mike's giant cheese wheel. He grabbed it, tore the wrapping off and started biting furiously into it until he heard someone behind him.

"Jesus…" Bigby's unmistakable voice said.

Clay's eating frenzy was now halted by intense embarrassment as he closed the fridge door and turned to see Bigby standing by the entrance. The sheriff continued to puff on his cheap cigarette while staring surprised at the scene he walked into.

"How long have you been there?" Clay asked after swallowing some cheese.

"Long enough," Bigby said leaning against the wall. "I think you have a problem."

"Sorry…"

"It's your place. Do whatever you want."

Clay leaned against the fridge and continued eating the cheese with much more self control now. He knew someone would catch him. It always happened this way. He couldn't even let go of his urge once without it getting awkward.

Though he sensed something else was on the sheriff's mind aside from disgust based on how he kept glancing back at the living room.

"Wha-" Clay started to say with a mouthful of cheese before swallowing. "What's on your mind?"

"Does something seem…off to you?" Bigby asked.

"About what?"

"Taylor"

Clay shook his head. "Not really."

"How long have you known him?"

"Long as I can remember."

"Is he usually this…emotional?"

"He saw one of our best friends die and was kidnapped by murderers. I think he's allowed to be emotional."

"Maybe so, but I'm not buying his story."

"Why?" Clay asked stuffing his mouth with more cheese.

"From what I know about Wendigo and the Hook Man, I doubt he could just get away from them so easily."

"Taylor's tough. I saw him take on three guys Digo's size at a bar once."

"It's not just the size. Digo has certain…powers that would make escaping difficult or a mundy."

"…powers?"

"You remember those 'scary vibes' you felt around Aggie?"

"Hm?"

"When you are at the café and earlier this evening. Snow said you mentioned that to her."

"Yeah…"

"Well…those vibes she's sending are more literal than you think."

Clay stood up from the fridge and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So…like she literally radiates fear?"

"Yup."

"Ok…so what does that have to do with Taylor?"

Bigby glanced back to Taylor and Nerissa before asking a question. "What color are Taylor's eyes?"

"Brown."

Bigby sighed hearing that. "I think you need to check again," he said exiting the entrance into the living room.

Clay didn't get the hint at first, but Bigby turned and motioned him to follow. Clay then finished the cheese wheel and walked behind Bigby as they saw Nerissa and Taylor continue to talk.

"So he calls himself 'the Hook Man?'" Taylor asked Nerissa. "Like Captain Hook?"

"No," Nerissa replied. "Like that guy from the campfire stories who hides in the backseat of cars and cuts people's throats."

"Eesh! Not someone I want to meet in a dark alley."

"Well technically we already did."

"True," Taylor admitted. Clay wasn't sure if Nerissa was actually trying to explain the Fable stuff or making up a good cover story, but at least Taylor was calm now.

"Hey," Nerissa said noticing Bigby and Clay walking by. "You guys done with your chat?"

"I found something weird in this room," Bigby calmly lied pointing to Taylor's room. "I just wanted to get his opinion."

"I apologize ahead of time for any horrors you'll encounter there," Taylor joked looking up to them.

That's when Clay got a good look at Taylor's eyes. To his sorrow, they were not brown like he knew they should be. Instead, they shone with a eerie, dull green hue. What the hell did that mean?

Bigby stopped the two of them in Taylor's room and faced Clay.

"Were they green?" Bigby asked.

Clay nodded.

"Shit…" The sheriff sighed putting a hand to his face before continuing. "Taylor's possessed."

"…what?" Clay asked bewildered. He shouldn't have to keep being surprised after everything else that's been going on, but possession?

"You know anything about Wendigos?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Well, a Wendigo can possess mundies who succumb to greed or gluttony."

"But Taylor isn't…"

Clay stopped there to think it over. Nothing about Taylor felt overly greedy. He liked money, but just as much as anyone who needed to make a decent living. And if anyone were guilty of gluttony, Clay would have been possessed ages ago.

"Isn't what?" Bigby asked waiting for an answer.

Then a thought occurred to Clay. "Would…would lust be counted in there?"

"I don't know the fine print, but I guess that means he's been greedy with the ladies then?"

Clay nodded. So it looks like a certain 'juggling girlfriends' problem was coming back to bite Taylor.

"Shit…" Bigby muttered.

"How do we know he's actually possessed?" Clay asked trying to preserve some degree of denial. "I mean, his eyes are just green. Maybe my eyes are blue from that stuff you used on me earlier."

"Your eyes were already blue."

"Well…" Clay started before realizing he couldn't argue against that. "Maybe I was mistaken then. Maybe they just looked green from that angle. Because if he's possessed, that means the others would-"

"Yup…" Bigby replied already aware of Clay's point.

"…well, how do we know then?"

"Ask him something personal."

"Hm?"

"Ask him something only the real Taylor knows. Wendigos can't access a person's memory."

"So what happens if he doesn't know the answer then?"

"The answer to what?" Someone behind them then said.

They turned to see Taylor at the doorway looking at them concerned. His eyes were still green, so Clay did see them clearly. He quickly tried to think of an answer while also thinking of a question he could test Taylor with.

"Um…if you don't know where they might have taken the girls."

"Well I don't know where," Taylor answered entering the room. "They could be halfway across town or a block away. So what happens now that I don't know the answer?"

Something felt very off right now and it wasn't just Taylor. A familiar uncomfortable feeling filled the room that made Clay's neck hairs bristle. It was faint right now, but he could feel it getting slowly stronger.

Clay looked back to the living room to see Nerissa sit up from the couch. He could see she sensed something was off too as the feeling continued to grow.

"Let's get back to the living room." Clay said trying to lead the way out.

"Nah," Taylor said moving back to block to entrance. "You haven't answered my question yet."

"What?"

"What happens if I don't know the answer?"

This was seriously creeping Clay out. He figured the increasing paranoia vibes were fueling his worry, but Taylor seemed too…menacing right now. Even on his off days, he was never this intimidating.

The fear vibes were getting stronger now to the point he could almost hear a ghostly whisper coming from the hall. He had to prove once and for all now that Taylor wasn't possessed or something bad might happen.

"What's…what's my middle name?" He asked Taylor.

"Huh?"

"What's…my…middle…name?" Clay asked more sternly as the whisper grew louder.

"What's going on?" Nerissa asked anxiously as she walked towards them.

"Ask your boyfriend," Taylor replied. "I wanted an answer to a question and he asks me to say his middle name."

"Huh?"

"Exactly. Clay, let's stop messing around, ok?"

The fear vibes were incredibly strong now, like practically right outside the door! They had to act now.

"Tell me my middle name now!" Clay said covertly looking over to Bigby. The real Taylor would have answered this by now, let alone not stalled this much. Bigby must have sensed this too, as he prepared himself for something to happen.

Taylor saw their reactions and looked back to Nerissa. That's when she got a good look into his eyes and realized what was going on. She took a few steps back, much to Taylor's annoyance. The fear vibes spiked at that moment, sending shivers down everyone's spine.

"Clay…" Taylor said looking back at him. "Do you really-?"

"Answer the goddamn question, you fake!" Clay shouted.

Taylor realized what was going on now too. After a few more seconds, he nervously shot a playful smirk and shrugged.

"…Mark?"

That was all Clay needed to hear.

"Bigby!" He shouted.

Taylor's expression went from playful to villainous in a second as he lunged forward to grab Clay, but Bigby beat him to it with a kick to the legs. Clay quickly sidestepped as Taylor tumbled onto the floor.

"Go!" Bigby shouted as the three of them ran to the living room.

"What's going on?" Nerissa asked.

"Taylor's possessed," Clay explained leading her to the door. "Come on!"

"Wait—"

Her plea was too late as the door flung open from the outside, cracking the lock and throwing splintered wood at the group. Clay shielded his face with his arm and noticed a violent green light flashing from the doorway before being engulfed back into the darkness.

What he then saw when he lowered his arm was like something out of a nightmare. A woman dressed head to toe in large black robes hovered above the ground like some kind of malevolent phantom. The little skin that was visible on her body was dark grey and metallic looking, like a living statue. A pair of glowing red eyes illuminated a face that looked like it had frozen halfway between melting. It was a terrifying image to have burned in his brain.

The phantom extended its bottom jaw to an unnatural length down and emitted an ear-piercing shriek that could wake up the entire complex. She then extended her crooked, clammy hands and swooped forward towards Clay.

Before she could reach him though, Bigby ran up and tackled her to the floor.

"Go!" He shouted as the woman grabbed his neck and threw him at the wall, knocking several hung pictures onto the floor.

Clay started to run until he heard a loud punch from behind him. He turned to see Nerissa fall onto the floor and went to help her. Then, he felt Taylor's large arms wrap around his chest and neck from behind. He struggled to free himself, jamming his elbows into Taylor's sides, but the guy was too strong. Like unusually strong, even for Taylor!

Taylor wrestled him down onto his knees, blocking Nerissa out of his line of sight. He continued trying to fight back, but Taylor's grip around his throat was making him woozy.

"What's the matter, boy?" Taylor said in an incredibly menacing tone. "Don't you know it's rude to walk out when guests are here? Aggie came just for you."

Clay looked up to see Bigby push the Aggie off of him, pick up a small nightstand nearby and swing it wildly at her. Something about Bigby was looking off too. Huge fangs poked out from his mouth, his eyes glowed with a sickening yellow hue, his eyebrows had pointed down more sharply and hair was growing out all over his body like crazy. It was like he was transforming too!

Aggie smacked the table from Bigby's hands and threw him onto the floor. Clay saw the decayed nails on one of its hands grow magically grow super long right before she plunged them into Bigby's face. The sheriff howled as he struggled to pull them out while throwing some scattered items from the floor at her.

"I've seen Aggie kill stronger men," Taylor said tightening his grip. Clay could feel his head growing dizzy from the lack of oxygen. "Don't worry. Go to sleep now. We're not here to harm you. The boss wouldn't—"

The sentence was ended abruptly with a loud clanging sound over his head. Taylor's arms loosened immediately, allowing Clay to slip out before Taylor collapsed unconscious.

Clay coughed trying to catch his breath and turned to see that his savior was none other than his lovely Nerissa. She wielded Mike's giant frying pan like a broadsword as she looked to Clay.

"Let's go!" She said wasting no time.

Clay quickly scrambled to his feet and followed her as Bigby and Aggie continued to fight. Bigby swung a broken leg from the nightstand into Aggie's head, causing her to wail and retract her nails from his face. He swung at her again, only for her to catch the leg and snap it in two with one hand. She then lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Bigby, squeezing him with so much force it sounded like his bones would crack. Bigby growled as more hair sprouted over his body and his frame grew larger.

Clay had to look away from the fight as he followed Nerissa down the hall. It would be too slow to ride the elevator, but there was a stairway entrance near it. If they could just reach it…

The elevator then chimed and its doors opened to reveal a very unwelcomed guest.

"Going down?" The Hook Man taunted as he brandished his namesake and exited the elevator. Nerissa held her frying pan up nervously as they backed up from him.

"Oh ho ho," The Hook Man laughed. "Gonna make me an omelet, bitch? We just want the boy. Get out of the way before I run you through."

Right then, a loud crash erupted from Clay's apartment. They turned to see the Aggie sprawled out onto the hallway floor and something huge exit the apartment. The now flickering light above the door revealed what appeared to be a werewolf wearing Bigby's pants!

"Bigby?" Clay said to himself shocked.

Bigby growled at the Hook Man and hunched forward ready to attack.

"I've been waiting for this," The Hook Man said pointing his namesake at Bigby. "Bring it on, you walking taxidermy project. Let's see how big and bad you really are!"

The two of them charged down the hall as Clay realized he and Nerissa were directly in the way. They moved to the side just as Bigby grabbed the Hook Man by the throat mid-charge, lifted him in the air and slammed him onto the floor.

"Clay!" Nerissa shouted as they ran past the fight. The Hook Man wheezed coughing up some blood, but not before plunging his hook into Bigby's left shoulder. The sheriff howled and threw several punches into the Hook man's face.

Clay was shocked that all of this commotion hadn't stirred up the floor or caused someone to call the police. He had to assume the Aggie's aura was keeping them paralyzed with fear, which made him more surprised he wasn't right now too.

Clay flung open the stairway entrance door and led Nerissa down as fast as they could. Where would they go though? These guys knew where he lived now and hiding in another mundy area wouldn't do much to help. His options were running out before he even started.

As they reached the second floor, they heard the Aggie's screech echoing from upstairs.

"Hurry!" Nerissa exclaimed as they began the final flight of stairs. They could hear the Aggie swoop down the stairs like a bird coming for them. The fear feeling grew stronger with every step, which meant she was getting close.

Nerissa burst through the lobby exit door and turned shouting for Clay to hurry. He knew the Aggie was right behind him now, practically touching his neck with her cold fingers. It probably would have been the end for him right there…

…when they heard a loud roar and the Aggie's aura faded. Clay ran out into the lobby and turned just in time to see that Bigby had tackled Aggie onto the ground. What timing!

Clay and Nerissa slammed the exit shut before running out the main entrance. Snow White was still in the car waiting for them, completely oblivious to what was going on. Of course, that was before they opened the back seat door and jumped in.

"Drive!" Nerissa said while putting on her seatbelt.

"What's going on?" Snow asked worried. "Where's Bigby?"

Clay turned to see the apartment complex door open. Rather than it being Bigby though, there was a bloodied and angry Hook Man bolting towards the car.

"DRIVE!" Nerissa shouted pointing out to the Hook Man.

Snow quickly turned the keys and slammed on the gas pedal. Unfortunately, the Hook Man dove forward and caught onto their trunk before they could escape. He rammed his hook through the metal to keep stable, glaring at the passengers as he tried climbing up.

Snow jerked the car side to side trying to shake him off, but the Hook Man hold wouldn't slip. He eventually caught his hand onto the top of the trunk to keep himself more stable. He grinned evilly and pulled out the hook from its original spot.

"Watch out!" Clay shouted as the Hook Man rammed his weapon through the rear window, sending pieces of glass all over the inside of the car.

Nerissa shouted and Snow continued trying to shake the assailant off while he flailed his hook wildly trying to slash anyone in range.

Clay panicked trying to think of something to do. Thankfully, a solution presented itself quickly. Nerissa was still holding that damn frying pan like her life depended on it, which gave him an idea that he had no time to second guess.

The Hook Man thrust his hook forward again and caught it into Nerissa's hair. Before he could do any damage though, Clay grabbed the frying pan from her, cocked it back and chucked it at the Hook Man's head.

The satisfying clang meant he hit his mark. The Hook Man shouted and his grip released from the top of the trunk right as Snow made a sharp left turn. The Hook Man tried connecting his hook to something, cutting some of Nerissa's hair in the process, but to no avail. The assailant flew off the car, rolled onto the street and slammed into the wall of a nearby building, knocking him out cold. Snow continued driving as they watched him fade in the distance from behind.

"God…" Nerissa exclaimed checking her hair and looking at Clay surprised. "Nice aim!"

He was surprised at his lucky hit too, but he couldn't keep his eyes away from the rear window just in case someone else came chasing after them.

"What the hell happened?" Snow shouted unable to keep her cool any longer.

"What do you think?" Nerissa shouted back. "They found us!"

"You said this place was safe."

"Guess I was wrong. It happens now and then. I didn't think they could trace him back to his place so quickly."

Clay decided to stop looking out the window and break up the argument. Before he could though, he saw something ahead of them. He couldn't get a clear view of it, but he could tell that it was coming straight at them!

"We have to go back for Bigby," Snow said.

"What?" Nerissa replied.

"You heard me! I'm not abandoning him just because—"

"Look out!" Clay shouted too late as the thing in the distance charged right into their car. The vehicle violently smashed against the thing, sending Clay into the air and through the windshield…

* * *

Clay's head spun like a tilt-a-whirl as he regained consciousness. He couldn't have been out for longer than a minute, but he still felt like a freight train hit him while drilling needles into his skull. And that was putting it mildly! So this was what happened when he didn't wear a seatbelt.

He slowly turned his head to see the car a few yards behind him. The front had been caved in and a large hole was smashed through the windshield. Snow White was trapped behind the airbag and Nerissa was still in the back calling Clay's name. That couldn't be a good sigh.

And it wasn't as he looked down and saw his left leg bent in the completely opposite direction! He could barely register the pain from that injury over the shock he felt seeing it.

Looking around the rest of his body only made the shock worse. The foot on his other leg had been twisted like a pretzel, his left arm had a bone sticking out through the elbow and his skin had been scarped up something bad by the asphalt. He could also feel pieces of glass embedded into his skull from the windshield.

He was surprised he wasn't dead right now. Hell, the glass in his head would have been enough to kill him alone if it was in deep enough. He would have considered this a miracle…

…until a huge rock landed in front of his face. A closer look revealed that it wasn't a rock, however, but a giant foot made of rock! He slowly lifted his head as much as he could to see whom it belonged to.

He recognized that the person was the Golem, but only because that helmet on its head vaguely resembled the bowl cut he saw earlier. Its skin was coarse and brown like a rock, with what looked like armor fused directly into its skin. A symbol was embedded into its forehead that glowed a fierce red in contrast to its dull grey eyes. Like the Aggie, the Golem resembled more of a living statue than a person now.

It looked down at Clay and bent down to grab him with one of its giant stone hands. Clay closed his eyes anticipating the worse…

…when he heard something crack over the Golem's head. He opened his eyes to see bits of brick crumble onto the street.

The Golem stood back up, completely unaffected by the attack, and turned to the car. Clay couldn't get a clear view past the Golem's foot, but he could see a hairy arm poking from above the car and heard a menacing growl. It was Bigby!

"Get lost!" Bigby barked with an incredibly deep voice. He did sound more worn out than expected, but Clay was sure he had enough strength to handle this guy…right?

The Golem took a step forward and raised its clenched fists up to fight. Bigby hunched forward preparing for a counterattack…

…when something bizarre happened. The Golem stopped moving entirely, standing motionless for a good seven seconds. The symbol on its head then rapidly flickered between blue and red, causing its limbs to twitch and jerk. Bigby and Clay met each other's confused looks as the Golem put its hands to its head. It took a step back, narrowly avoiding Clay by a hair. Its limbs continued to twitch as it growled like it had a pile driver hitting its head.

After a few more seconds, the symbol stuck to shining blue and the gesticulating stopped. The Golem's body relaxed as it looked down and saw Clay on the ground. It seemed…horrified? That was the closest thing Clay could attach the strained emotion on the Golem's face.

The Golem then looked to Bigby, who prepared for an attack once more. Instead, the Golem turned and ran. Its thudding footsteps echoed down the street before it rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

An awkward silence fell on the scene as Clay tried to figure out what just happened. The Golem could have put up a good fight against Bigby. Hell, it totaled a car just to get to Clay. So why did it give up so easily?

Whatever the case, he didn't think about it any further as he saw Nerissa run out the car towards him. Snow also left the car towards Bigby, who seemed to be slowly shrinking in size.

"Oh my god…" Nerissa muttered as she knelt by Clay and examined his wounds. Her reaction proved that they were probably worse than he expected. He still didn't understand why he wasn't in more pain right now, but seeing her worry like this hurt more. There was no doubt that he was screwed for life in this condition.

He looked back to see Snow and Bigby approach them, with Bigby almost completely back to human form. Even with knowing Bigby's identity, he never expected to have seen a werewolf before the night was done. Then again, he shouldn't doubt anything anymore.

"Clay?" Snow asked before seeing him for herself. "Oh no…"

Clay then saw Bigby eyeing his wounds suspiciously. There he went with that detective shit again! Was there anything to deduce about…?

"Bigby?" Nerissa asked as he bent down beside her and examined Clay's bent leg. The way he looked at it was unsettling to Clay, like he was plotting something that satisfied a nagging curiosity.

"What?" Clay asked nervously.

What happened next shocked everyone. The sheriff grabbed Clay's leg and snapped it back into place! Any pain Clay hadn't felt before came back in tenfold now, causing him to shout loudly as his pain nerves reacted to the impact.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nerissa shouted.

"Bend your leg," Bigby told Clay.

"Are you crazy?" Clay said deciding to join Nerissa in shouting too. "How the hell am I supposed to do tha—"

And it was when he felt his leg move. The surprised reaction from Snow and Nerissa meant they saw it too. He looked down and tested his mobility to see if he wasn't mistaken. First, his toes responded to the command to wiggle. Then his foot rotated like normal. And then his knee bent like it normally would. He still felt a little pain from each of these actions, but aside from that it felt like they were never broken to begin with.

"What…?" He muttered looking back at Bigby. "How…?"

Snow and Nerissa turned to Bigby waiting for his answer too, to which he just gave a smug smirk as he moved to Clay's arm and shoved the protruding bone back in place. Clay grit his teeth against the pain, but he couldn't look away as he saw his bone slide back in and connected to the fractured point.

That's when he saw the skin start to close up. It wasn't an instantaneous heal, but it was faster than any normal person should be able to heal. It was almost like Johann when…

"Well that explains a lot," Bigby said satisfied as he stood up.

"How did you know?" Snow asked.

"I had a hunch. Too many pieces were adding up."

"Wait…" Nerissa asked as she stood up too. "Does…does that mean-?"

"Yup," Bigby replied as he looked down to Clay. Even though Clay knew what Bigby was going to say, it was no less shocking to hear. "Clay, I think you're a Fable…"

* * *

**Duh duh duhhhh! So the truth is finally revealed. Which Fable is Clay? Why are these people chasing him? What will happen next? Tune in to find out. In the meantime, leave your reviews and comments on the story or in a PM. Thank you once again to those who have done so already!**


	4. Friends With the Monster

**School has started up again, but that won't stop this writing machine! After a re-write and several editing passes, chapter four it good and ready. The plot is about to thicken once more...**

* * *

A couple of years ago, Clay, Mike and Taylor went on an impromptu beer run. They had gotten off a late shift at the pizzeria and all the other two wanted was to drink the night away. It took a little cajoling to get Clay to join, but he eventually gave in. The actually purchasing went pretty flawlessly once they got to the liquor store. Hell, the register guy didn't even as for identification. So they were about to leave and enjoy their night of drunken stupor…

…when some haggard looking psycho walked inside with a shotgun. He told everyone to get on the floor, shooting a hole into the wall to show he meant business. Clay nearly shat himself sprawling on the ground next to Mike, while Taylor had the misfortune of being directly in the man's path to the register. Clay cursed and prayed to whoever was listening that they wouldn't die in a liquor shop. It seemed like a particularly pathetic death.

The man slurred and spat as he ordered the employee to point out the most expensive alcohol in stock. He then ordered Taylor to get it for him, emptying his spent shell to scare him. Taylor didn't waste a second getting back to his feet and grabbing the alcohol. He kept looking back to Clay and Mike to see if they saw anyway out of the situation. They had none to give sadly.

Once the alcohol was delivered, the employee opened the register and began emptying the till.

Then the gunman knocked the register off the counter with the butt of his weapon. He said something about money being 'the excrement of evil bureaucrats bending over our proud country.' He then opened the alcohol box, chugged one of the cans and put his own wallet on the counter. Clay then heard him mutter something about 'being dead before they knew it,' though it was unclear if he meant himself or one of them.

The man then tucked the case under an arm, shot out the store's front window and left as police sirens blared in the distance. And that was it. No other demands were made. No one else was threatened. He even closed the door on his way out. Clay never found out what happened to that guy, but he definitely didn't feel like drinking after that.

That had been the bar for Clay's 'weirdest moments ever' list. Being told he was a Fable topped it.

It wasn't being a storybook character that troubled him though. Well no, it did, but the little questions personal to him worried him more. If he was really a Fable, he should be as old as Nerissa right? Then why couldn't he remember anything before the last seven years? Why hadn't he noticed anything supernatural about him before now? Why didn't anyone here recognize him? Did surviving the car crash mean he was a popular Fable? He didn't feel like he was a Robin Hood or some other big hero. Then again, those killer Fables wouldn't chase him if he weren't significant somehow.

All of these questions buzzed in his head like a swarm of hornets. Even after everything that happened tonight, it felt too surreal to be true.

The twinge of pain he then felt on his scalp proved the opposite though.

"Sorry," Bufkin said standing on a table behind him as he discarded a piece of glass.

It had been an hour since the crash. There wasn't enough time to treat Clay's wounds before the Black Aggie or someone came back, so everyone got back in the car praying it would work. After a few failed attempts, the engine revved with enough power to take them to their destination before dying. Seeing how much damage the Golem dealt the car, Clay figured magic had to be involved with their stroke of luck.

Bigby and Nerissa led Clay into an apartment complex as someone from inside rushed out to help Snow with the car. Clay spotted a sign reading 'The Woodlands' on the way in and remembered the others had mentioned it earlier. Didn't they say it was unsafe? He didn't really have a choice in the matter though, so he had to go with it.

They eventually made their way up to a place called 'the Business Office.' If someone had told Clay a room this huge existed in this building before tonight, he would have called them crazy. The front part didn't seem too abnormal, as it was just a few desks, tables and cabinets in an office like manner. Then he noticed the long rows of bookshelves behind them. And the large piles of assorted items all over the place. And who could miss the pirate ship sailing through the air? This place must be pretty important to cram this much crap into it.

Nerissa sat Clay in a chair as Bigby gave them the same instruction Snow did about not opening the door for anyone but them. After mentioning he had to do some 'clean-up,' he quickly exited the office. Fortunately Bufkin was able to squeeze through Bigby's legs before he closed the door or he would have been locked out for a while.

That was half an hour ago. The only thing Clay had been up to since then was waiting for his bandaged wounds to heal while Bufkin and Nerissa quietly picked glass out of his skin. It was as fun as it sounded…

Clay stared down to the ground and nervously twiddled his fingers. Remembering all of that stuff made the nagging questions in his head even more so, along with the additional worrying for Taylor, Cheryl and Sally's safety. If they died because of him…

"Some night," Bufkin said trying to lighten the mood. "Lunatics, car crashes and mysteries galore, am I right?"

"Nerissa's glare shut him up for a moment. Clay figured he meant well, but he agreed that now wasn't the time.

"Well…at least you're all safe," Bufkin said meekly as he pulled out one more piece of glass. "There. That should be it."

Clay continued staring at the ground as he felt his scalp. He felt the tender areas where his wounds were still closing, but he couldn't feel anything else other than skin and hair. At least that was one problem out of a dozen he could scratch off.

"Did Doctor Swineheart say he would stop by?" Nerissa asked Bufkin.

"No, but I'm sure Miss White can convince him," he replied. "Johann should be patched up by now, so he'll have the time."

Nerissa nodded as she reached for Clay's hand, but he recoiled it. They touched him enough picking the glass out. He didn't feel like doing any more for a while.

"So…" Bufkin said to Clay. "You're a Fable?"

"…yeah," Clay replied not looking up.

"That's great. Which one are you?"

"…hell if I know."

An awkward pause followed before Bufkin looked to Nerissa. "Any ideas?"

She shook her head. Clay wasn't surprised. He could be anything from a prince to a troll for all they knew.

"Hm…gimme a minute," Bufkin said flying off the table and disappearing between some of the bookshelves.

Clay and Nerissa sat in silence for another minute. He could feel her gaze on him like a pair of headlights, but he couldn't muster the energy to do the same.

"Clay?" She finally asked worried.

He didn't reply.

"Honey?"

He stood up and walked over to one of the desks. A pernicious thought festered in his head right then. Why did she care what he was thinking? She did save him from 'not-Taylor,' but that was when she still thought he was a mundie. Isn't that what she thought he was an hour ago? That he was some defenseless, insignificant mundie? Snow thought so, so who can say Nerissa hadn't thought the same? Maybe even the whole time they dated too.

"Please…" Nerissa said standing up from her own chair. "Tell me what's on your mind. Brooding in silence won't help anything.

He leaned against the desk and sighed. Well, she wanted to know.

"When you thought I was still a mundie, how…how long did you plan to string me along?" He asked.

She didn't answer.

"A few more days? Weeks? Months?"

More silence. He closed his eyes and huffed. He had vented a lot tonight, especially to her. Still, he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't understand what she was thinking this whole time.

He paced to a different part of the room trying to keep his thoughts focused.

"What if I wasn't a Fable?" He continued. "What if I died in the crash? Or maybe some time before that? Would that have been a weight off your shoulders? Like all of the sudden, your mundie boy toy is out of the equation. Now he can't ruin your secret or drag you down anymore."

He could hear her walking now, but he couldn't tell which direction.

"That's it, isn't it?" He continued unable to stop his stream of conscious as his tears welled in his eyes. "I was going to be trouble either way. If tonight never happened, you'd still have to get rid of me. The fling would be over as soon as I found out."

Her footsteps were approaching him now. He crossed his arms and inched away as she stopped behind him.

"So how would you do it?" He said as his voice wavered. "Big messy break-up? A convenient lie? …killing me? No one would miss me. What's one stupid dead mundie to the safety of the community? Then you'd be free to find some immortal dick wad who couldn't shit all over your happy little life like I did. Right?"

That's when he heard her suppress a sob. Well…what did he expect her to do? He sighed and decided to turn to face her.

The look she gave him immediately burned in the back of his skull. Tears ran down her cheek, but they didn't dull the daggers in her eyes pointed right at him. One of her fists was shaking, possibly to stop her from punching him. Her body shook as they locked eyes with each other. It was surprising and kind of terrifying.

After a few more seconds, she unclenched her fist and wiped her eyes.

"Well?" She asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "Anything else you want to add?"

For the second time tonight, Clay felt like a heel. She hadn't answered his questions, but he couldn't find the passion to ask her again. He looked away, trying to avoid her face.

"No!" She shouted. "You got something to say, say it to my face!"

He closed his eyes and shuddered hearing that. She never shouted like this before. Yelling at Snow was one thing, but this felt more personal.

"You want to call me a whore too?" She said sharply. "You want to tell me how I played with your emotions because you're a stupid little mundie who makes shitty pizza and lives with two losers? Maybe you'll tell me how I planned to dump you into a river because I knew no one would care to look for you? Or maybe you'll tell me about how happy I'd be if you died because I wouldn't have to listen to your angry, asinine drivel ever again? You seem to know everything about me, so go on! Say it!"

Tears ran down Clay's face hearing her say that. An angry pause hung between them, with nothing but Bufkin distantly rummaging through books cutting the tension.

"…it hurts, doesn't it?" Nerissa then said. "Saying stupid shit you don't mean."

She walked back and sat on the desk facing away from him. Clay wiped his eyes and sat in a nearby chair. His body shook as he put a hand to his face. What the hell just happened? Did she mean any of that stuff she said? She wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. He was just spewing out angry nonsense. Then again, how would she have known that?

He took a deep breath to stop from breaking down and slumped forward. He wasn't supposed to be here. Tonight should have ended sitting in front of a warm fire or relaxing in a soft bed. He didn't have those things anymore. That was a mundie world he wasn't a part of anymore.

"My whole life's a lie…" He said sorrowfully.

Nerissa didn't even budge.

Clay exhaled loudly to calm down. He was tired. He was afraid. He was confused. And now he was driving away the only person who had supported him this whole time. He wanted to say something. Take back that shit he said. Anything that wouldn't make him so pathetically desperate sounding.

"Hey!"

He turned to see Bufkin land on the desk nearby with a stack of books.

"Look what I found!" He said. "If we all take one, we could…"

It was then he noticed Clay and Nerissa sitting across the room looking unhappy.

"Oh…I'll, uh, I'll just start over here then," he said sitting down, opening a book and propping it up to keep himself out of their view.

Clay groaned. Getting out of his mental funk proved harder than he thought. Nerissa didn't deserve this. Her life was being just as ruined as his, what with not being able to go home and putting up with his cranky ass.

It was then that Clay noticed the books Bufkin had picked out. They looked like the old storybooks Mike used to read. He must be trying to find what Fable Clay was. Maybe helping him out and finding some answers would help Clay calm down. He started to stand up from his chair.

"Do you know how much of that is coming out of my pocket, sheriff?" A loud voiced boomed from out in the hall.

Clay sat back down as Bigby, Snow and some other guy entered the office.

"When you told me the car was a long-term investment," the other guy continued while adjusting his hood-rimmed classes. "You failed to mention that you literally meant I would have to keep paying for it!"

"You think we enjoyed wrecking it, Bluebeard?" Snow shot back.

"Sure looked like it! Do you know how much the repairs would cost?"

They were close enough now that Clay could get a better look at this Bluebeard guy, though the shine from his baldhead didn't help. He was a tall man, maybe even a bit taller than Bigby and just as built. He had clearly been sleeping before coming to the office, wearing a dress robe over some fancy pajamas to not look too casual. What really stood out though was the man's namesake. It looked like a tightly cropped black beard from a distance, but Clay swore he could see the faintest hint of blue in it.

"You're not hurting for cash," Bigby said to Bluebeard putting a potion vial from his pocket into a desk drawer. "And what else was Snow supposed to do? Golem charged right at her."

"Turn? Swerve out of the way? Anything but run into him!" Bluebeard replied. "And why the hell is Golem attacking you? Why is the Hook Man back in town?"

"If we knew why, we wouldn't waste time talking about it here."

"Well then you should do something about that."

"We already have," Snow said. "The car's out of sight now, we memory wiped the complex and we've been increasing the Woodlands' security spells."

"Are you sure you wiped everyne there?" Bluebeard pointed out. "What if you missed someone? Are we going to risk the community's safety on a hunch?"

"Right," Bigby replied sarcastically. "Because they're going to believe one person claiming to have seen a ghost and a werewolf fighting in a hallway."

"Don't mock me, sheriff!"

"I'm not! Aggie's aura kept everyone too afraid to leave their homes anyway, so that one person who could remember us wouldn't have proof anyway."

"We sent people to clean up the mess too," Snow added. "By morning, it'll be like we were never there."

"Typical," Bluebeard grumbled. "You have no qualms burning through my money to cover your reckless mistakes. When some bastard is stealing from my castle though, you won't even lift a finger to stop them."

"We already checked the castle twice and questioned everyone in the building."

"And yet things still go missing!"

"How do you know it isn't Hobbes doing that?" Bigby asked.

"Because he knows better than to do something so stupid!"

Clay and Nerissa did their best to stay out of the conversation. Whoever this Bluebeard was, Clay had quickly learned not to upset him. He wasn't really in a mood to talk anyway.

That was out of his hands though as Bluebeard turned and spotted him.

"Who the hell is he?" He barked gruffly.

"His name's Clay," Bigby said. "Don't worry. He's with us."

Bluebeard sized up Clay before shooting an accusing glance to Bigby. "You brought a mundy into the Woodlands?"

"He's a Fable," Snow said.

"How do you know?"

"Because I personally set those bones back into place," Bigby noted pointing to Clay's bandaged limbs.

Clay stood up in case Bigby needed to further his point. His limbs felt tender, but they definitely weren't broken anymore.

"They healed just as fast as yours or mine would," Bigby continued. "Only a Fable can do that."

"Well I've never seen him before," Bluebeard said crossing his arms and scoffing. "What Fable is he then?"

"We don't know," Bufkin joined in diverting attention from his current book. "I've been looking it up, but his face doesn't match our records."

"So a mystery Fable then?" Bluebeard said. "For all we know, he could be in cahoots with those thugs."

"Highly unlikely," Bigby retorted.

"Why's that?"

"Because he's the one they're after. They killed one of his friends and are holding the rest hostage."

"Did you see that happen? How do you know that wasn't a well-consructed lie to get your sympathy? For all we know, he set everything up to sneak into the Woodlands so his friends can attack me."

"They're not my friends," Clay replied sternly glaring at Bluebeard. All of this conclusion jumping was annoying him.

"At least you can speak for yourself," Bluebeard snidely said with a menacing smirk. "Fine. If you're a Fable, where have you been hiding the last several centuries?"

"I don't know. I didn't know I was a Fable before tonight."

"How? Haven't you ever broken a bone or had a serious injury before?"

"No."

"Liar!"

"That's enough," Snow said trying to break the argument up. "There are lives at stake here. Throwing accusations won't—"

"What?" Bluebeard interrupted. "A bunch of mundies? Let them die. It's their fault—"

"Shut your goddamn mouth!" Clay shouted refraining himself from doing something stupid. He wasn't going to let that asshole dismiss his friends like that.

"Or what?" Bluebeard taunted. "Even if you're not with those thugs, all of this is your fault in the first place. Your friends' blood and anyone else's hurt tonight is on your hands, nobody!"

"Stop it now!" Bigby growled.

Clay and Bluebeard continued to glare at each other until Bluebeard relented. It's amazing how a minute of talking could change Clay's attitude. Instead of staying out of Bluebeard's way, he just wanted to sock him now.

"What the hell makes him so special anyway?" Bluebeard asked Bigby.

"We don't know," Snow answered for him. "If Golem and Wendigo are working with them though, it must be big."

"Well then," Bluebeard said looking at something behind him. "Perhaps we should consult someone who can rub two brain cells together."

Clay noticed the area Bluebeard referred to. All he saw was some household items, dressers and a mirror grouped together. It didn't look like anyone was there.

"That was the plan before you got in the way," Bigby said walking past Bluebeard.

"Sure it was," Bluebeard mocked watching him.

As Bigby continued towards the mirror, Snow walked over to Clay.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Clay asked noting Bluebeard.

"Bluebeard," she replied.

"I got that. I mean, why do you put up with him?"

"He's a primary contributor to our community fund. We can't exactly say no," she said before looking at him curiously. "Are you ok?"

"Hm?"

"You seem…off."

Apparently Clay's poker face wasn't working right now. He tried to think of an excuse, but his eyes instinctively glanced to Nerissa regardless.

Snow looked over to see Nerissa standing near Bigby and Bluebeard around the mirror. She had been looking back to Snow and Clay, but quickly looked away as they noticed her.

"…something happen while we were out?" Snow asked him.

"Yeah…." He replied guiltily. He hoped she picked up the 'I don't want to talk about it now' hint.

"Well…if I can do anything for you, let me know," she said before walking over to Bufkin and checking his current book.

Clay sighed. He couldn't blame Nerissa if she thought he was a jackass right now. If he could take back the stupid stuff he said, he would. All he wanted was a 'why.' He could handle crazy shit like tonight happening or even what Nerissa's thinking behind their relationship was, but the lack of answers was what bothered him most.

He decided to stop the self-pitying for now and divert his attention back to Bigby at the mirror.

"Alright, let's see…" Bigby said. "Mirror mirror, blah blah blah table, we have a question about a Fable."

The mirror then shimmered with a soft green light as a ghostly face emerged from the midst of a green cloud. Clay was at his limit for amazement tonight, but he had to admit it looked cool.

"You'll have to use an actual rhyme one of these days," the mirror replied in an echoing voice.

"As long as it works, I'll keep using it."

"Very well. You have a question for me? You'll have to ask more specifically."

"How specifically?"

"You already know this game. All I ask for is a name."

Clay found the mirror's use of rhymes amusing, but he kept it to himself.

"Hey Snow," Bigby said turning to her and Bufkin. "You guys found anything useful?"

Neither of them replied.

"Well?" He repeated more concerned.

"We, uh, we might," Bufkin replied nervously. "It's just…"

"What?"

"You need to see for yourself," Snow said.

Bigby joined them at the desk, leaving the mirror unattended. Whatever was bugging Snow and Bufkin should have worried Clay too, but he had other things on his mind. The mirror just needed a name right? He could give it a few.

"Hey!" Bluebeard said as Clay walked to the mirror. "Stop that."

"I just have a couple questions," Clay replied not looking at him. "Or is that too dangerous for you?"

Bluebeard grunted crossing his arms.

Clay stood in front of the mirror, nervously trying to think of what he should say. "Um…hello mirror?"

"No need to waste time on formalities," the mirror replied. "What would you like to see?"

The idea of the mirror talking to him was unsettling, but he just pretended like it was him singing to his bathroom mirror…except it was a spooky reflection singing back to him in that fantasy too!

"I…I want to find Taylor Granger," he then asked.

"You're new to this, so I'll make things clear," the mirror replied. "You must make inquires through rhymes here."

"Why rhymes?"

"I don't make the rules. That's how it is."

Arguing with the mirror sounded obviously pointless, so he tried thinking of what rhymed with Granger.

"Uh…mirror mirror…my friend's in danger. Please show me Taylor Granger."

The mirror's face dove into the blackness around the green cloud and disappeared. It was only gone for a few seconds, but Clay already broke a nervous sweat anticipating the answer.

Just then, the mirror's face reappeared.

"I'm sorry, but Taylor cannot be shown," the mirror apologized. "Whether magic's to blame is simply unknown."

That wasn't the answer Clay wanted to hear…

"So you can't even tell me he's alive or not?" He asked slumping his shoulders in annoyance.

"Magic's no respecter to life or death. Whatever blocks your friend is beyond my power."

"Could the Wendigo be blocking you?"

"The stench of greed and lust is present, but a body housing two souls is hard to discern."

Shit…so it was just another mystery. Best-case scenario was that Taylor was under the Wendigo's possession and still alive. Worst-case was that they killed him or followed through on their cannibalism threat. Again, the lack of one answer of the other was what worried Clay most. He just had to stay optimistic.

Clay looked behind him to see Nerissa. She continued avoiding him, though she didn't seem to enjoy doing so. He felt like he should do something for her and thought of one thing that could be a start.

"Mirror mirror…uh, thanks for that…sight? Now please show me Cheryl Wright."

The face disappeared again, only this time something new appeared. It was a darkly lit room, bereft of any furniture or decoration. Cobwebs were strung along the ceiling and mold spots were growing on the floor.

What caught Clay's attention, however, were the two women huddled together in the center of the image. It was definitely Cheryl and Sally. He could recognize Cheryl's curly golden locks anywhere. They looked terrified out of their minds, but they were still alive.

"Cheryl…" Nerissa then said walking up next to Clay. "Sally…"

At least that got her talking again. To be fair, he was just as worried for them.

"Where are they?" He asked the mirror.

"I can only show what can be seen," the mirror's voice replied.

"So you can't just readjust the angle so we can figure out where it is?"

The image faded and the mirror's face reappeared.

"I'm not a movie camera," the mirror said. "I can only show what can be seen."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me to repeat myself."

Clay sighed frustrated. More dead-ends…well, at least they could remember what the room looked like. Nerissa nervously rubbed one of her arms.

"We'll find them," he said trying to reassure her.

He reached out to hold her hand, but she recoiled it away. So she was still upset at him. It was a minor gesture to be fair. Maybe he should just be more direct.

"I'm sorry…" He said. "Really…I am."

Before she could reply, they noticed Bigby and Snow hurriedly walking to the mirror. Something wasn't right. They seemed very concerned, possibly even scared.

"Bigby?" Nerissa asked.

"Move!" Bigby barked shooing them away. They quickly stepped back to not upset him more.

"What's going on?" Bluebeard asked seeing something that caught his attention.

"We don't know for sure, Bigby," Snow said continuing some previous conversation. "He could be someone else."

"You want to waste time guessing or do you want to prove what we already know?" Bigby retorted.

"How could it possibly be him anyway?" Snow asked glancing to Clay. He already had a bad feeling about this.

"This doesn't sound good," Bluebeard said curiously as he leaned against a table. Bufkin landed next to him, equally concerned about something.

"Feel free to leave then," Bigby replied.

"Well when you put it like that, then I have to stay."

Clay nervously rubbed his hands together as he watched Bigby look to the mirror.

"Now…" Bigby said. "Mirror mirror, something involving joy. Show me the Clay Boy."

The oxygen sucked out of the room as the mirror's face descended again. In those few fleeting moments of silence, the thought occurred to Clay to run. He glanced to the door, but his legs felt rooted to the floor. There wasn't a thing he could do.

Then an all too familiar image appeared in the mirror. It was their location in the Business Office, but with most of the people and other items out of focus. However, one person centered in the image was all too in focus.

It was him!

"Is there something wrong with your view?" The mirror asked. "It is in the room next to you."

Clay nervously broke his line of sight from the mirror to see everyone simultaneously turn towards him. What was that look in their eyes? Worry? Panic? Fear? All of the above? No one moved a muscle or took a breath staring at him. His nervous sweat spread to the back of his neck feeling their eyes on him.

"…wh…what?" He hesitantly decided to ask.

Then Bluebeard did something incredibly impulsive. He ran to a pile of items, pulled out a hatcher…and lunged forward to attack Clay!

In that split second between Bluebeard grabbing the hatched and turning to attack, Clay noticed Nerissa was directly in the man's path. He instinctively pushed her out of the way to safety, not even thinking about the pain he was going to feel.

"Stop!" Bigby shouted grabbing Bluebeard's arm. The hatchet's edge literally touched the tip of Clay's nose before stopping, causing him to shudder in fright.

"Let me go!" Bluebeard shouted throwing a punch at Bigby. The sheriff caught it though, proceeding to twist Bluebeard's arm and slam him against the table.

Clay stumbled back a few steps as the two continued to struggle. Bluebeard actually tried to kill him! He didn't even show a sign of hesitance! The thought to ran out the door screamed in Clay's head, but his shock continued to immobilize him.

"It's a monster!" Bluebeard shouted straining to free himself. "We need to kill it now!"

He freed his arm and shoved Bigby off. Without wasting a second, he threw the hatchet at Clay's head!

Clay wasn't immobilized anymore! He stepped out of the way, but not quickly enough as the hatchet's edge cut across his cheek before embedding into the door. He put a hand on the cut as Bigby stood between him and Bluebeard.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bluebeard barked. "Get out of the way and let me end this!"

"We're not going to do anything rash here!" Bigby growled back.

"Rash? There's nothing rash about killing that…that thing! Why the hell is it still alive?"

Still alive? Thing? Monster? So apparently Clay was a well know Fable but for all the wrong reasons.

"I don't know why," Bigby replied to Bluebeard. "But killing him won't stop those thugs."

"Then give him up! Kick him to the curb! As long as he's out of my building!"

"It's OUR building, asswipe. And I say if you want him, you have to go through me!"

Bluebeard clneched his fists and glanced around to see if anyone else would support him. Snow averted his gaze. Bufkin kept his mouth shut. Nerissa, still lying on the floor, continued to stare at Clay in shock.

Realizing the situation wasn't in his favor, Bluebeard loosened his fists.

"So that's how it'll be then?" He seethed. "Fine!"

He stormed towards the door, purposefully walking into Bigby to push him out of the way. Before he passed Clay though, he stopped and glared at him. Clay lowered his hand from his cut staring back.

"You're going to regret this, sheriff," Bluebeard said. "If you don't do something about this, then I will!"

With that threat left to linger, Bluebeard left and slammed the door behind him, causing the hatchet to clutter onto the ground.

Silence fell upon the Business Office as everyone waited for the tension to dissipate. Clay just couldn't win tonight. It wasn't enough that killer Fables wanted to hurt everyone he cared about. Now he had to deal with the fact that being the Clay Boy terrified the other Fables enough to want him dead. The dried blood on his fingers was proof enough. Some inauguration into the community that was…

He then remembered that Nerissa was still on the floor. She wasn't hurt, but he figured that might have unintentionally earned him another jackass point. Like he didn't have enough to worry about.

"…are you ok?" He asked reaching out a hand to her.

She stared at it for a moment, still not sure if she should accept it or not. Before he could retract the offer though, she grabbed it and let him help her up.

"Yeah…" She said still a bit stunned. "Thanks…"

She walked away and rubbed her shoulders nervously. Apparently this revelation shook her a lot more than it did for him. He still didn't know why.

"What are we going to do?" Snow then asked Bigby.

"…I don't know," Bigby sighed sitting in a chair to calm down.

"Why is being the Clay Boy so bad?" Clay decided to ask.

No one replied. He wasn't in the mood to accept 'hush hush' as an answer right now though.

"What did I do? Why did Bluebeard try to kill me?"

"Because you're a killer," Bufkin squeaked out.

That made Clay's heart sink. "…what?" He asked bewildered.

"Sorry," Bufkin said rubbing his paws nervously.

"Like…how many people?"

"A lot," Bigby answered as he thought something over.

Clay looked to Nerissa, who confirmed with those doe eyes of hers that it wasn't an exaggeration. He looked down to his hands shocked. Getting in fights with people was hard enough for him. How could he be a killer?

"We need to find Brandon," Bigby said to Snow.

"Who's Brandon?" Clay asked.

"Why?" Snow asked back completely ignoring Clay.

"Only one person would want to find Clay this badly," Bigby replied. "He might be able to help us find the King."

"What king?" Clay asked in futile.

"Do we still have Brandon's address and number?" Bigby continued.

"It should be in the records," Bufkin said flying off to the bookshelves.

Clay got the feeling they were about to push him off to the sidelines again to do this stuff. He had been sitting around long enough.

"I want to help," he said.

"Nuh uh," Bigby said shaking his head. "You're not coming."

"What? You want me to stay around here with Bluebeard on my ass?"

"He's all talk, Clay."

"Really?" Clay replied pointing to his cut.

"Coming with us would only make yourself and anyone around you a target for the Hook Man's gang."

"So what? You kicked their asses last time!"

"Barely."

"Whatever!"

"It's not 'whatever,'" Snow said. "Golem could have killed Bigby if he hadn't backed down. He wouldn't be able to fight them again so soon."

Clay groaned. So he was dangerous and completely useless right now.

"Guess I'm stuck here too then?" Nerissa asked.

"After how quickly they tracked Clay's place down, I'm sure they're already scouting yours too," Bigby replied.

"So…where would we stay then?"

* * *

Clay quietly stifled a yawn as Bigby loudly knocked on an apartment door. All of tonight's stress and revelations were taking their toll. A quick glance at Nerissa's glazed over look proved she was feeling the same.

"Gah! Coming!" A man called out from inside.

They could hear some commotion from what was likely the man getting dressed. They could have called ahead to let these people know they were coming, but they were still playing by Bigby's rules at the moment.

After fiddling with the locks, the man opened the door. He was a broadly built guy, with muscles stretching against his wrinkled shirt. He ran a hand through his long brown hair, trying to keep down the gnarly bed head he was experiencing. He probably would be pretty intimidating if he were more awake.

"What the hell do you-?" The man started to say before seeing who it was. "Oh…Bigby. What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," Bigby said slyly. "Hey Beast, remember when you said you'd do anything to help pay your debt?"

"Uh…yeah, but—"

"Good. You can start right now."

"Huh?"

"These two need a place to rest up and stay hidden for a few hours," Bigby said nodding to Clay and Nerissa.

"But—"

"No catch."

"Ok, but who—?"

"He's nobody and that's what you'll tell anyone who asks. Nobody's in your apartment and I didn't bring anyone. I'll be back later to pick them up and then you can talk to Snow about settling some of your debt."

Beast still seemed incredibly confused, but not enough to pass up Bigby's offer. After some hesitance, he moved out of the way and let Clay and Nerissa inside.

"Ok…" Beast said. "Don't take too long."

"No promises," Bigby replied before looking to Clay and Nerissa. "Get some sleep. If anything happens, call Snow immediately."

"Be careful," Nerissa said.

"Thanks..."

Beast closed the door as Bigby left, leaving the three of them alone in the living room. He turned to them, unsure what to do.

"Um…her, Nerissa," Beast said awkwardly trying to small talk.

"Sweetie?" A woman's voice called from the bedroom. "Who was that?"

She entered the living as she tied off the sash on a robe. Clay sort of deduced that this was Beauty if the other guy was Beast, but she definitely lived up to the name. Her long blonde hair, soft blue eyes and finely toned body was the envy of supermodels everywhere.

She clearly wasn't expecting company though, as she yelped seeing them. "What are they doing here?"

"It's ok, honey," Beast reassured. "They just need a place to hide for—"

Hide? What are they hiding from?"

Clay groaned. He got the feeling they weren't going to sleep for a while…

* * *

**Clay's night just can't get much worse, can it? Let me know what you think in reviews and PM's. Thank you all once again for following and favoriting my story. It means a lot!**


End file.
